


Turns Out, I Have a Rose Garden

by betheflame



Series: Rose Garden [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Politics, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Coming Out, Deaf Clint Barton, Don't Have to Know Canon, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, M/M, Movie Reference, Parent Steve Rogers, Past Steve and Peggy, Pepper Potts Is a Good Bro, Superfamily (Marvel), The American Public Can Get Over It, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2020-05-02 05:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 52,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19192411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betheflame/pseuds/betheflame
Summary: President Steven Grant Rogers was gearing up to run for president again and he had yet to deliver on his major campaign promise from the first term: reverse the effects of climate change by at least 40%. Luckily for him, billionaire genius inventor Tony Stark had just the technology to do it.Less luckily for Steve, he wastotallyinto Tony, who had no idea Steve was gay becauseessentially no oneknew Steve was gay. If Steve has to choose between a second crack at the office or a first crack at true love, which one wins?+++++++The "American President" re-telling no one was asking for (except my subconscious), where Steve is President and Tony is ... well... himself.+++++++February 2020 Update: Chapter 16 Added with Art from AnonymousMink!





	1. Chapter 1

**November 2023**

“And then at 10:15 you have that speech to the American Fisherman’s Society in the Green Room. They’re presenting you with a 20lb bass, which I think is taxidermized but I will check on that,” President Steven Grant Rogers’ morning PA wrinkled her nose. 

“Wanda, make a note. Let’s schedule more events where someone gives me a really big fish,” Steve remarked as he and Wanda wandered from the residence to the Oval Office. 

“Yes, sir,” she replied quickly. 

“Wanda, that was a joke,” Steve said gently, trying to conceal his smirk. _Two months I’ve had this one and she still can’t read me._

“Yes, sir,” Wanda replied meekly. She was saved from any further embarrassment when she and Steve entered the portico and were met by Natasha Romanov.

“Nat!” Steve cried jovially. “What is this I hear about penguins I’m pardoning?”

Nat rolled her eyes. “He made a – and I quote – game time decision, sir, about how to distract from the Stark meeting this week, sir. You are the one who gave him this job against my better judgement.”

“A, you are the one who technically hired him, dear Chief of Staff, and b, Nat, you were in my grooms party, I think we can do Steve,” he replied, the way _he did_ every morning, as their walk to the Oval was joined by several Secret Service members and a few scattered staffers. 

“Yes, sir, Mr. President,” she replied with a smirk, the same way _she did_ every morning. 

He grinned and gave her a fist bump before entering the door held open for him by a fellow Marine. “Lt. Jackson,” he greeted the man, who nodded in return. Steve walked in the room and paused, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, the way he had every morning for the 22 months and 14 days he had been President. 

After a decorated military service, the American public was not particularly surprised when Steve Rogers declared his candidacy for President. What they were really surprised at was how he conducted his campaign once he started running. He gathered a staff of Republicans, Democrats, Green Party, and even a sprinkling of libertarian-leaning folks who helped him craft one of the most aggressively pragmatic campaigns in American history. His slogan was ‘Whatever It Takes’ and the American people had decided to give him four years to prove it. 

His victory was helped by four factors, according to historians. One, his running mate was his famous fellow solider Samuel Wilson who was already a two-term Senator when the men ran. Two, the other candidate put forward was really weak. She was also routinely kerfuffled by his passionate and yet diplomatic answers to her rather pedantic challenges and had a stronger feminist and intersectional campaign than she did. Three, both he and Wilson were essentially made of charisma. Four, his wife died suddenly two months before the election, leaving Steve a single father of a truly adorable 10-year-old moppet named Peter. 

Once elected, Steve quickly set about filling key positions. The best advice he had gotten from previous presidents was that the person he trusted with his life and was eons smarter than him was his Chief of Staff. If he had two of them, the least charismatic one got CoS and the other one got Communications Director. He, and Nat had been friends since their moms had been in the same Mom-and-Tots swimming class at the YMCA in Brooklyn. James 'Bucky' Barnes joined the gang a few years later, but they'd all be inseparable since their elementary school years. If the three of them couldn’t lead the charge to execute Steve’s vision of a better America, no one could. 

_“You have essentially been running my life since we were in diapers, why should that stop now?”_

_“I’m currently making $450k a year and I’d be trading any future maternity leave for this. You have two sentences to convince me to manage your circus,” Nat had said when he had asked her to leave her gig as a human right lawyer in Chicago to help his campaign._

_“Our moms would want you to do it.” Steve said solemnly._

_Nat grunted. “Oh fuck you, you did it in one.” She sighed. “More or less than what I make?”_

_“Bucky thinks you can each swing $1200 a week.”_

_“So this would be less.”_

_“That answers the question if I’m putting you forward for Treasury Secretary.”_

“Bucky, pal, what did these penguins do that I’m commuting their sentences?” Steve called to his best friend as his executive staff began to enter the Oval for their morning briefing. 

“They’re gay,” Bucky shrugged, his mouth full of bagel. “It was Buzzfeed. Some zoo in China was going to kill them. I said we’d take them.”

“You are the goddamn communications director,” Phil Coulson, Director of Intergovernmental Affairs, growled at Bucky. “You couldn’t have sent a text to the National Zoo first?”

“Phillip,” Bucky rolled his eyes slightly as Bucky’s deputy and Steve’s Chief Speechwriter, Darcy Lewis, came in to take her seat. “I took that interview about six minutes after Stark opened his _fucking_ gob about how useless he thought this week’s meetings would be. There was no way in hell I was answering questions about that and Darcy found gay penguins and it is Pride month and we got an internet win. Can you climb out of my ass, please?”

“Children,” Steve called, “do I have to be here for this meeting?”

Mumbles of “sorry, sir” and “yes, Mr. President” sounded as the morning briefing got underway. Darcy had some quick notes on the messaging around the Environmental Improvement Summit, which was the official name of what everyone was internally calling the ‘Stark Meeting’ since Tony Stark had been the one to call it. Sam had slid in with some concerns his office had about an event he was doing on his next international trip that he needed Bucky and Darcy to work with his office on. Nat’s deputy, Scott Lang, had an update on some negotiations he was working on with Phil that day with the AFL-CIO in their ongoing attempts to avoid a potential strike amongst various electrician unions. 

To Steve’s great relief, the meeting concluded with only the minimal amount of squabbling and pretty soon he was sending everyone back to their quarters. His staff generally got along and they were all professional, but stressful seasons brought out the worst. The Stark Meeting had them under more stress than any of them were willing to admit as one of Steve’s core campaign promises had been to decrease the impact of climate change. The results of said promise? Fuck all, as Nat liked to say. They had gotten distracted by about seven other seriously pressing issues and climate science had fallen by the wayside. 

It probably, as much as Steve hated to admit this, would have stayed there if billionaire philanthropist Tony Stark hadn’t gotten kidnapped earlier that year. As a result of that event, he had shut down all of his weapon productions – major blow to the DoD that SecDef Danvers had not stopped screaming about – and was funneling all of his resources into clean energy. And calling out President Rogers’ administration in the process. 

The staff were all on edge because they knew Stark was right and they were embarrassed. They were also on edge because Stark was being a gloaty jackass about it. 

“Sir,” Bucky said as the meeting wrapped up. “Do you have, like, fifteen to stick your head in once His Royal Greenness shows up?”

“You better start calling him Mr. or Dr. Stark now, because if you slip and call him one of your inane nicknames…”

“I won’t, I won’t. _Dr._ Stark and his pals are here at 10am. Wanda said your giant fish thing is at 10:15, which in presidential time is 10:30, so can I snag the 10 slot? Stick your head in, remind him who is actually in charge?”

“Do you need me to whip out my dick and measure it against his?”

“I mean, I’ve only seen his in porn, but it can’t hurt,” Bucky smirked. 

“This guy made porn?” Steve’s jaw dropped. 

“Sorry, Grandpa. I forgot you've always been a dork who avoids the internet and normal, generationally appropriate society. Yes, Tony Stark’s sex tape was – Nat, when did Stark’s sex tape drop?” Bucky called across the Oval. 

As the pair debated Steve could not help but let his mind wander slightly. _Of all the conversations I was sure I would have this room, this didn’t even crack the top 4,000._

“Anyway,” Bucky pulled him out of his reverie. “10am, Roosevelt Room, the big one with the giant portrait of the dead white guy,” he called as he started walking out. 

“Does not narrow it down!” Steve was sick of his staff making fun of his inability to remember his way around the West Wing. “You know, I’ve never met him.” 

Bucky stopped dead in his tracks as everyone else exited the office. “What. That cannot be possible! The Stark Foundation is one of your main donors.”

“And every campaign event, he sent Pepper Potts or James Rhodes,” Steve said, taking a seat on the couch and opening a file to read quickly before his next meeting. He had approximately four minutes of alone time and he was going to revel in it. “I’ve met them loads of time and they’re lovely. But the man himself was always busy.”

“Shit, then no dick whipping for sure,” Bucky smirked. 

“Why?”

“He is 100% your type.”

Steve made a face and waved his best friend off. _Yes, because I would jeopardize everything Peggy and I worked for because I can’t keep my dick in my pants over a narcissistic billionaire who flirts with everything that moves and I think that may include plants. Coming out is not part of my re-election campaign._

“Sir,” Wanda called from the door. “Secretary Mjabi is on the phone.”

“I’ll take in the private office,” Steve replied and his day was off and running. Before he knew it, Wanda was leaving him at the door of the Roosevelt Room and reminding him he only had 15 minutes. _Or 30 Presidential Minutes_ , Steve corrected in his head, keeping the smile off his face. 

As he entered, everyone stood up and he waved them back down. “Sit, please, I just wanted to poke my head in and see how the final preparation was going for the summit.”

“The elusive President Rogers,” said Tony loudly, but not unkindly, and turned the full power of his smile in Steve’s direction. 

For a hair of a second, Steve was rooted to the spot and his only cognitive thought was _Goddamn it, Buck, why are you always right?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some brief U.S. Politics translations (per request): 
> 
> Chief of Staff - Cos - essentially, the President's right hand person. In charge of the Senior Staff. 
> 
> POTUS - abbreviation for President of the United States
> 
> Communications Director - in charge of all messaging that leaves the White House in speeches, statements, briefing memos, etc. 
> 
> Director of Intergovernmental Affairs - attempts to get all the branches of government to cooperate. Most impossible job in Washington. 
> 
> AFL-CIO - a large Union in the U.S.
> 
> Private office - the President's official office is the Oval Office, but there is a private study that is just off of it that connects directly to the CoS' office so that they can get, you know, actual work done.


	2. Chapter 2

“Peeeeeeeeepppppppperrrrrr,” Tony whined. “He is the biggest square!”

“Anthony, it is not 1959. President Rogers isn’t square, he’s…”

“So perfect all of the time he has to be fake? Annoyingly put together? A total dweeb?”

“Have you been reading Archie comics again or something, Jesus,” Pepper rolled her eyes. 

“A 1950s haircut deserves a 1950s insult, Pep,” Tony replied. “Butterfingers, we have talked about this, no, not that one, Gods sake DUM-E, mind your brother, Butterfingers, I need the socket wrench with the, yes that one, thank you.”

“TONY.” Pepper roared. “We have to leave for the White House in 45 minutes and you still look like a guest star on Top Gear. Shower, shave, suit, in that order, now. Jarvis, can you enforce?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“J, pal,” Tony started. 

“No, sir, I am with Ms. Potts on this matter. President Rogers must see reason and you are the only one who understands what you invented. The boys and I will continue to clean the prototype in your absence.”

“Fine, fine,” Tony grumbled. 

It was about five months since Tony had come home from Afghanistan – an event which had become the true demarcation line in his life. While over on a glorified press tour for a new missile he had invented (while drunk, thank you very much, missiles were too easy), a charming cell of miscreant terrorists had decided to “abscond with his person”. He was held captive for several months but was rescued by the 101st Airborne division and everyone lived happily ever after. 

At least, that was what the official U.S. military record read, though with markedly less sarcasm. What really happened was that he’d had a lot of time to think while he was building his own way out of that cave. Sure, he was grateful to Rhodey’s flyboys for the lift back to Germany but he’d had it handled with the flying suit he really should keep tinkering with. Because that is what Tony Stark did. He handled shit. 

You needed a charming MC for a charity event? Tony handled it. A political friend needed a distraction from a scandal? Tony handled it. A MIT student couldn’t sort the last bit of his PhD project and needed a helping hand? Tony handled it. 

He was the fucking pied piper of technological America and he spent most of his existence making sure no one knew.

He was also, according to him, a master at handling his emotions. Years of verbal abuse from his father? Handled. Decades of never measuring up? Handled. Crippling shame that his last name was drenched in the blood of millions? Handled. 

Well, he had been. 

And then three months of silence in a cave with a man named Yinsen changed everything. 

_“Tony, you must ask yourself this,” Yinsen said quietly one morning while they were eating the completely unidentifiable food substance shoved through the door at them. “For two months now, you have told me of all the good things your technology can do. You tell me you have workshops full of prototypes and patents for things you’ve never produced. You tell me your entire company has been focused on making weapons while you have been focused on making energy sources, and artificial intelligence, and prosthetic limbs, and irrigation systems. Why are you living two lives? It looks like it is killing you.”_

_“I believe you’ll find that’s the shrapnel in my heart,” Tony replied, a sad smile crossing his face._

_“I believe you can tell the truth,” Yinsen retorted. “Even though I know it feels strange on your tongue.”_

_Tony was quiet for a minute. Yesterday he had finished the miniature arc reactor to keep the shrapnel away from his heart and the freedom of movement it granted was incredible. While his limbs may have appreciated the change, his lungs, sternum, and rib cage hadn’t quite gotten used to the foreign object keeping him alive. Every breath hurt, a dull ache that he realized would be his companion for the rest of his life. And with every breath, he was reminded there was no going back to the dude who flashed joking peace signs and danced to Obie’s beat._

_“I am a Stark and Starks make weapons,” Tony intoned. “It’s how it has always been. I showed my first robot to my dad when I was 11 and he asked me how it could be weaponized. Fast forward ten years, my dad is dead, and everything I’ve ever invented has been used to kill people and whatever was left of my conscience at that point felt pretty shitty about it, I know language, sorry. I told the board to keep Obie on as CEO and I just wanted to be given a lab and a product line. They approved the lab, but not the product line. I was too young, and too high to be frank, to argue. And so I just stayed in my lab and came out when they needed me to put on the monkey suit and dance for the world.”_

_“That sounds unpleasant,” Yinsen said gently._

_Tony barked out a laugh. “My life fucking sucks, Yinsen. I know, poor little rich boy who parties all the time and makes a million dollars a day just by existing. My life must be terrible. But you know what? I have no idea if anyone but Rhodey and Pepper miss me right now. I have no biological family left, I’m not even sure why I have the two friends I have, because God knows I have hurt them each more times than I can count, usually by accident but still, and I just found out that the only thing I have going for me – my legacy as a Stark – is being stolen by terrorists to kill innocents after decades of being promised that would never happen but being too, I don’t know, numb or selfish to double check. I am a goddamn scientist and I didn’t even use the scientific method of inquiry on my own fucking company to make sure we were still the good guys! Spoiler alert! Yinsen! We are not the good guys!”_

_Yinsen was quiet for several moments as Tony caught his breath. “Why do Starks make weapons?”_

_“It’s where the money is,” Tony barked out a cynical laugh. “My press office would want me to tell you that it’s because our technology is so advanced that only we can guarantee the accuracy in targeting that protects civilians, but honestly? It’s the money.”_

_“And do you have enough of that now?”_

_“I have more than I could spend in fourteen lifetimes.”_

_“Then, I ask again, why do Starks make weapons?”_

In the remaining time that Tony and Yinsen spent in the cave together, Tony struggled to answer that question. He was a futurist, after all, so he ran all of the options for shutting down weapons production before he even got back to U.S. soil. 

_“Pep,” Tony said quietly one day when they were in his living room. It was late and she probably should have gone home ages ago, but she hadn’t really gone home since he came back and he wasn’t exactly complaining. After one particularly awkward drunken fumble three years into their friendship, Tony and Pepper cemented each other into the roles of “family” and never looked back._

_“Yeah?” She murmured distractedly._

_“I’m shutting it all down.”_

_She paused. “It being the entire company?”_

_“It being the weapons production lines.”_

_She paused for longer. “As the person who is most likely going to spend the next several months of my life cleaning up after you announce, thanks for the heads up. As your sister, it’s about fucking time.”_

_He looked shocked, so she continued. “You haven’t been excited by anything you’ve built for the weapons lines in, what, six years? I can’t even remember. The day before you left for that damn trip you were over the moon about a duster attachment you made for DUM-E that we could sell as a Roomba attachment. I’d much rather help sell dusters than death.”_

_“Well, I’ve got bad news and terrible news, Pep. Bad news is that there isn’t quite the money in dusters that there is in death, and terrible news is that I think you and I are the only ones who are going to see it that way.”_

_“You own 70% of the company, Tony. The next closest person is Obie and he’s at 15%. It’s your name. Let’s make dusters.”_

And so Tony had announced the world – with only Pepper and Jarvis knowing ahead of time – that Stark Industries would honor all of its existing weapons construction contracts but would commit to no more. Instead, the company would be shifting focus entirely to renewable energy sources and other efforts to reduce global warming. 

The American public thought Tony was essentially a superhero for such a choice. His shareholders thought he was leading them all to hell or bankruptcy, whichever came first. And his long-time CEO Obidiah Stane? Creepily unbothered. ( _“Keep an eye on him, J,” Tony instructed Jarvis after one particularly weird meeting._ )

The more Tony started digging around in public policy regarding green tech, the less pleased he was. Then, about a month ago, Pepper made a remark that their lives would be easier if President Rogers had carried through on his election promise to carve a 20% budget increase for green tech. 

_“THAT IS IT,” Tony exclaimed, nearly knocking Pepper off the sofa with enthusiasm. “Let’s remind the big old piece of handsome toast that he works for us, eh?”_

_“It’s not a personal employee thing, Tony, it’s more of a communal thing.”_

_Tony waved his hand. “His green initiatives are one of the reasons I campaigned for the dude.”_

_“And the fact that if you called Central Casting and asked for ‘Handsome Wholesome American Man’ they’d send Steve Rogers,” Pepper quipped._

_“I don’t vote with my dick, Pep.”_

_“Well, then that’s the only thing you don’t do with it,” she snarked as Tony threw a pillow at her. She laughed and continued, “I get what you’re saying. Want me to set up a meeting?”_

_“Too small. Set up a summit.”_

_“A summit.”_

_“Yeah, get Banner and that Wakandan chick-“_

_“Her Royal Highness Princess Shuri of the Kingdom of Wakanda?”_

_“Yeah, her, and who’s that one from Columbia with the weird plants?”_

_“Dr. Steven Ambrose Bujdaight who rebuilt most of the irrigation systems in rural Zimbabwe with the use of banana tree bark?”_

_“Yeah, Bark Guy, and whoever else and make the White House host it and let’s force Rogers to the table.”_

Which is how Pepper and Tony had arrived at today, with Tony dragging his feet and Pepper managing his life. It wasn’t that he wasn’t deeply passionate about forcing a 20% spending increase or that he didn’t think that a White House summit was one of the first steps in the process, it’s just that for as handsome as Rogers was (and booooyyyyy was he), he was also milquetoast. 

Tony had better things to do then waste time charming the pants of a guy who was most likely more hetero than Jesus himself. Everyone knew if you wanted anything done in the Rogers White House, you dealt with Barnes and Romanov. If the meeting he was being shuffled to was with one of them, he’d handle it. Rogers? Ugh. Pomp, circumstance, protocol, and zero flirting. What a waste of a Tuesday. 

But then, 90 minutes into the final preparation meeting for the summit, the President himself walked in the door to the Roosevelt Room. As he entered, everyone stood up and he waved them back down. “Sit, please, I just wanted to poke my head in and see how the final preparation was going for the summit.”

“The elusive President Rogers,” said Tony loudly, but not unkindly, and turned the full power of his smile in Steve’s direction. He remained on his feet, figuring it was proper to shake the President’s hand while standing.

The President rounded the table towards Tony and reached out his hand. “The magical Mr. Stark, or is it Dr.? My team wasn’t sure which you preferred.”

And then their hands met and Tony lost most of his power of speech. 

“It’s technically Dr. but no one cares except MIT when they call for more alumni money like I don’t give them enough already, haha, so Mr. is fine, but really Tony, Tony is fine, just call me Tony.” _Fuck why can I physically not make my mouth stop moving._ He caught Pepper’s eye and she was giving him quite a look. 

The President laughed warmly, a laugh Tony felt all the way to his toes and other appendages, and let go of Tony’s hand. “Well, Tony, I’d love to tell you to call me Steve since I think more stuff gets done when we don’t focus on titles, but there’s about ten people in this room that would light themselves on fire before they’d let me do that, so we’ll stick with Mr. President. Nat, catch me up – things going okay?”

As Tony took his seat again, he fought the urge to wipe his hands over his face. _Jesus, Mary, and Joseph on pogo sticks, I am fucked._


	3. Chapter 3

“Are we going to talk about what happened in there?” Bucky said softly, around 6pm that night. The pair were in the residence waiting on Peter’s piano lesson to end so they could all eat dinner. 

“I have no idea what you mean,” Steve said primly. 

“Jerk, you haven’t been able to get anything past me since the 3rd grade so why the fuck you think you can start now is beyond me. Your tongue nearly fell out of your mouth when you saw Stark,” Bucky quirked an eyebrow. 

“He’s got a lot of charisma,” Steve commented, not taking his eyes from his phone. 

Bucky snatched the phone. “Steven, this is you and me. No one else is here. Are we going to talk about today?”

Steve narrowed his eyes at Bucky before sighing deeply and laying his head back on the couch. “I am fucked.”

“Only if you –“

“I’m not doing that to Peter.”

“Do you not think that having a father who is living a lie – “

“There is a huge difference between his dad coming out and the President – “

“You’re the same man!”

“Come off it, Buck,” Steve sighed the sigh of a man to whom this argument was a well-worn track. “All my son is going to hear is that I didn’t love his mom, which is so far from the truth it’s painful. I loved and will always love Peggy, always, and I miss her every damn day. He doesn't need to know we would have never gotten married if she hadn't gotten pregnant that first time. And he _definitely_ doesn't need to know she would not have gotten pregnant if I hadn’t been using her to sort out my own fucking sexuality!“

“Now it’s your turn to come off it, Stevie!” Buck snapped through gritted teeth. “If she was here she would slap you across the mouth for that. You didn't even know you were doing that, you were so far in the closet, dude, and, it's not like we were in a particularly welcoming environment for introspection. Stop re-writing your own history. Margaret Carter knew you were bi before you did – even if you’ve comfortably landed into a “Gay & Peggy” sexuality since - she knew who you were and she loved you - God knows why but she did. She loved being your wife, she was so proud of you, and she was so proud of Peter.”

“Speaking of –“ Steve said as the pair heard the telltale sign of running feet. 

“This is not over,” Bucky responded. 

“Oh, I never dreamed it would be,” Steve rolled his eyes and hefted himself off of the couch just as his son ran through the door. 

“I know I know I know no running in the halls where I could trip on a Marine but DAD! Oh hi Uncle Bucky! DAD, I got to play the theme from _Star Wars_ today and Miss Weisel said I did it really good and maybe I can play it for the recital isn’t that awesome! I'm _starving_ , oh hi Mr. Samson,” Peter greeted their butler. 

“Hello Master Peter,” Samson intoned grandly, as he did every evening when Peter greeted him, which led to Peter nearly collapsing in uncontrollable giggles as per the nightly tradition. 

“Did you hear my good news!?” Peter asked. 

“I believe I heard you had mastered the soundtrack of Alderaan, which is commendable, sir,” Samson smiled softly. 

“Well, I don’t know about mastered but Miss Weisel did say I played with passion,” Peter said thoughtfully. “I have a long way to go for mastered.”

“And go there you shall,” Bucky ruffled Peter’s hair. “Go wash up for dinner, kiddo.”

It wasn’t unusual for Bucky and Nat to stay over in the Residence or at least eat dinner with Steve and Peter. They’d been a tight knit little family since… well, it felt like forever, and once Peggy died it only seemed to draw them closer in to each other. The media speculation about the exact relational boundaries was frequently rife and the last Bucky had heard, there were Las Vegas bookies who had odds on he and Nat hooking up. Being the collectively youngest Senior White House staff since John Quincy Adams’ administration had created quite the cottage industry for gossip.

_“10-1, Tash,” Bucky had said._

_“How much money are we talking,” she had replied, not even looking up from her phone._

_“We’d probably score a million each with the right bets.”_

_“To have your potentially diseased junk anywhere near me, it’s at least a cool two.”_

_“I get tested,” Bucky protested._

_“Yes, as your boss, I am aware, thanks for making sure they always carbon copy me, thank God medical records aren’t subject to FOIA, you gross boy,” she twerked an eyebrow._

_“Then you know I’m clean,” Bucky said smugly._

_“It’s your soul I’m concerned about.”_

_“Oh, the Marines took that when they took my arm, Tash.”_

That particular evening, Natasha was attending a lecture on… to be frank, neither of her friends paid attention, but she was going with Sam’s wife and someone on the VP’s staff, so there were more agents than air particles in the vicinity, and thus Bucky and Steve were unconcerned. 

Peter came to the table with damp hands – he had yet to master the art of drying, or really the patience for it – and a big grin. “Uncle Bucky! I heard a story about you today!”

“Oh yeah, kiddo?” Bucky said mildly. “Steve, what is this?”

The only rule that Steve had for his family was that when they were in the Residence during family time, all titles were checked at the door. In fact, if Bucky came and got Steve in the middle of the night and addressed him as ‘Mr. President’, Steve knew to be slightly panicked. 

“We’re eating around the world this month, Buck, and Peter has picked all the recipes” Steve said with a grin. “Peter, tell him where we are tonight and then tell him your story.”

“This is som tam, a popular dish from Northeastern Thailand that’s made of green papaya. It’s spicy, which Dad said you liked, so when Dad said you were coming tonight I picked one of the dishes from the “spicy” list I made, and then Chef Bergstrom said he checked with a Thai friend who said we can have it over noodles and it still counts as authentic so that’s why there’s noodles,” Peter paused for breath to shovel some of the dish into his own mouth. “Is that okay?”

“Peter, mouth,” Steve chided gently. 

Peter swallowed loudly. “Sorry, Dad, anyway, we had an Air Force person, captain? General? I can’t remember, he told me to call him Wilson, he came to talk to the class today and he told me he knew you and that he was with you in Germany before Dad even got there is that true?”

Bucky noded. “It’s Colonel Pedersen, but if he told you to call him Wilson then that means he really likes you.”

Peter grinned. “He also said to ask you about the time in the bar in Dresden.”

Bucky nearly choked as he made eye contact with Steve, whose smirk was being hidden by his beer bottle. “That story is for when your dad isn’t President any more.”

Peter seemed to accept that – it was one of Bucky’s standard answers after all – and poked around at his food quietly, which both men knew was a sure sign of trouble brewing. Peter was _rarely_ quiet. If he was happy he was happily babbling, if he was nervous, he was nervously babbling, if he was angry, he was angrily babbling. Silence meant he was plotting his next move or was scared. 

“Dad, why weren’t you with Uncle Bucky when he woke up? He must have been so scared, weren’t you scared, Uncle Bucky?”

Steve put down his fork and looked directly at his son. “Because your mom was in labor with the baby we lost, Petey. Remember? I told you that before we had you, your mama and I were going to have a baby girl, but she got really sick when she was still growing and she died and we never got to meet her.”

“Sylvia,” Peter said quietly. “I remember. You and Mama never talked about her.”

“And Petey,” Bucky said gently, “I was so scared, but I was way more scared for your mom and mad I couldn’t be there to help.” 

“So it was Wilson who helped you try on all the fake arms?”

Bucky laughed. “No, that was Auntie Yasha, but we did that all in New York. The minute I was safe to fly, I came home to your parents.”

“And that’s when you got so mad at the VA that you applied for the job, Dad, and then you ran it, and then you ran New York, and now you run America!” Peter said triumphantly. 

Steve smiled. “That’s quite a concise summary of 20 years of my life.”

“See!” Peter said with a wide grin. “I can talk short!”

Steve rolled his eyes dramatically, which made his son giggle, which as far as Steve was concerned was the greatest sound on earth. “Hey Spidey.”

The use of Peter’s childhood nickname – coined because he would climb anything and everything when he was little, but once he was in Peggy’s arms, it was like he was suctioned to her – indicated a change of both tone and subject. 

“Guess who I met today?”

“Ummmm…. I dunno.”

“Who was on the cover of Robotics Monthly last month?”

“YOU MET TONY STARK!?” Peter’s silverware clattered to the table as he nearly shook with excitement. “Tell me everything. Was he as brilliant in person as he is in the article, that’s silly, of course he is, he’s a genius and he invented artificial technology, Dad, invented the whole thing, and I don’t know a lot about nanobots but no one else does either except for Tony Stark because he invented them too and he’s super rich and he drives really cool cars and I cannot believe you met him and didn’t tell me immediately.”

“Are you quite finished?” Steve asked dryly. 

“Sorry,” Peter said sheepishly. “Was he here for his summit thing?”

“Yes, he and his colleague Ms. Potts were in town a day early to finalize some things. He’s coming to dinner here tomorrow night and we’ll eat in the formal room, so I need you to make sure all of your tools are out of it tonight before bed, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Peter said with a wide grin. “Can I set them up somewhere else so I can show Mr. Stark?”

“You can set them up in the family room for tonight and I have no idea if Mr. Stark will want to see them, but you can ask.”

Peter nodded, satisfied at that, before he took off again on a verbal tangent asking Bucky about Colonel Pedersen and why Bucky chose the Marines over the Air Force and why everyone hated the Army and and and…

Which allowed Steve to let his mind wander about the upcoming hell that was going to be his kid meeting the first human who had made him remember he had a dick since his wife died. 

_________________________

“Sir?”

Steve was slightly startled by Clint Barton’s voice at his office door later that night. Clint served as the administration’s Ability Commissioner, which worked to not only ensure ADA compliance but to create equitable environments for any American with physical, mental, or emotional challenges that may ‘other’ them in some way.

“Clint, come on in,” he said and then noticed Clint pointed to his ear. _Aid out again?_ He quickly signed. 

Clint nodded and signed back. _Left ear is totally gone and keeping only one in gives me migraines. Have an awkward question for you._

_Shoot._

_Can you get me in a room with Stark for a few minutes? They’re running trials on a new implant and I want to get in._

Steve thought for a minute before answering. _Of course I can. What about tomorrow?_

 _Andrea can come to all my meetings,_ Clint answered, referring to the translator Clint had worked with since losing his hearing in Iraq. _And I only have one thing for the summit anyway with the transportation folks._

_Got it, thanks for letting me know, and I’ll talk to Stark tomorrow._

_Thanks, Cap,_ Clint grinned, saluted, and wandered off. 

By some bureaucratic miracle, Bucky and Steve had ended up in the same unit in the Marine Corps when they enlisted and had met Clint in Basic. They were instantly inseparable. In their early 20s, the trio had thought they were all invincible and fought accordingly. Steve had gotten promoted a few times – surprising no one but him – and by the time his fifth full year rolled around, he was a Captain in the United States Marine Corps. Not shabby for a skinny orphaned nobody from Brooklyn.

Then, 2006 happened. When Peggy had gone into early labor and Steve was put on the first transport out of Fallujah (it really helped being married to the daughter of the head of Interpol), Bucky and Clint got attacked by an IED. Clint escaped with a concussion, broken jaw, and complete loss of hearing in both ears, where Bucky lost his entire left arm and most of the skin on his left leg. 

It was not a great year for anyone in their little family. Clint had headed back to Iowa and his family, only to find out that there wasn’t a whole lot of work for deaf, impoverished veterans out in the Midwest. Bucky had gone home to Brooklyn to discover that there was about the same amount of work there for men whose only marketable skill had previously been killing people but who couldn’t afford a prosthesis advanced enough for fine motor control. Steve, grieving with Peggy in London, had rarely felt more impotent in his life. 

When the time had come for Steve to re-enlist or not, he and Peggy had long conversations about how he could be most useful. They were on the verge of settling into jobs that Mr. Carter had found for them when Bucky called to say that a position had opened at his local VA he thought Steve would be perfect for. 

_“Jerk, you have been watching first hand how we keep getting shafted by the system and Clint and I are the lucky ones. Our injuries are visible and so we get priority. What about Anderson with the nightmares or Benji who is so afraid of sand now that he couldn’t move back home to Arizona and dragged his family to Minnesota? Those guys don’t need no bureaucrats, they need leaders and you’re the best one I ever saw. Come on, Cap, we need ya.”_

_Steve and Bucky had talked back and forth for a few minutes on the speakerphone before Steve disconnected. Meeting Peggy’s eyes, he sighed._

_“Oh, Steven, why are we even pretending. Being needed is your kryptonite,” she smiled lovingly. “Put in the application and I’ll talk to Daddy about a visa.”_

He toiled at the VA for a while, rising in the ranks, until his patience with systemic toxicity had run out, and then he decided to run for office. Six years after the first shot, the Presidency made sense and Clint had been one of his first phone calls. 

Nearly three years into his (first?) term and Steve was confident of three things. One, being successful as President was entirely about who you had around you and your ability to negotiate in good faith. Two, being successful as President was entirely about public perception since no one really knew what happened in this building. Three, being successful as President was more complicated than he had ever dreamed of. 

His phone rang, bursting him out of his reverie. “Rogers.”

“Mr. President, I have Secretary Danvers on the line for you.”

“Put her through.”

“Mr. President, I have Nancy with me,” Carol came across the line, referring to the NSA Director. 

“Hi Nance.”

“Mr. President,” Nancy greeted. “We have a situation in Colombia.”

“Well, that sounds ominous.”

“It’s 11:30pm on a Tuesday, sir. What content of this phone call woudn’t be ominous?” Steve could hear the smirk in Carol’s voice. 

“Touché, Secretary. I’ll see you both in the Sit Room.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Disclaimer: while I am tangentially connected to several military branches, my knowledge of the workings is still more from Google than personal experience. Mea culpa for any errors. 
> 
> I know this is a lot of exposition dump - world building is a bit of a bitch - but I promise the snark will fly soon! (And so will the smooches... but those will take longer because... well, you've met our boys.)
> 
> Translations: 
> 
> \- The Residence is the term for where the President and their family live - it's mostly on the 2nd floor. The East Wing, for the curious, is the First Lady's (or, God willing someday, First Man's) offices. 
> 
> \- The Sit Room is the Situation Room, where all of the great and powerful gather to make strategic military and other high security clearance decisions. 
> 
> \- NSA is National Security Agency - they're the ones who listen to our phone calls and yours. (You're welcome for the required intrusion of privacy!). 
> 
> \- SecDef is Secretary of Defense 
> 
> \- VA is Veterans Affairs - a wing of the U.S. government which is perpetually underfunded and understaffed and whose employees are heroes. 
> 
> I've gotten some lovely comments from non-Americans saying there's a lot to take in and I don't doubt it! I'm trying to think of everything I can to translate or expand for you, but if something is confusing, just ask!


	4. Chapter 4

“Anthony, it is just dinner. You have had dinner with world leaders before.” Pepper’s voice held significantly more amusement than he was comfortable with. 

“I have never been asked to the President’s family dining room to eat with him and his kid because said kid is a fan of mine which, considering I used to kill people for a living, I hope is a recent development.”

_“Stark,” Barnes called his name at the end of the meeting. “The President asked if you could kindly follow me back to his office, he has a quick question for you.”_

_Bewildered, Tony threw a glance at Pepper, who shrugged and asked Barnes where she should wait. He introduced her to an aide and then led Tony back through the maze of the West Wing._

_“If you could just wait in here, he’ll be right in.” Barnes opened the door and showed Tony into the Oval Office._

_The_ motherfucking _Oval Office, where Tony was just now casually sitting, waiting for one of the most politically powerful people on the planet to ask him a quick question._

_Normal Tuesday._

_“Tony, thanks for coming!” The President boomed as he walked in through a side door that Tony hadn’t even noticed as a door. “I’m sorry I had to duck out earlier, I had a thing where some very monochromatic men gave me a giant fish and I simply couldn’t pass that up. Did the meeting go well?”_

_Tony swallowed. Stark, come on. Head. In. The. Game. “Yes, sir, I think so. I’m concerned about some of the egos, but Pepper will keep everyone in line.”_

_President Rogers laughed warmly. “From everything I have heard about Pepper, I believe she can do so with one hand tied behind her back.” He took a seat on the couch across from Tony. “I’m sure I can’t match your benefits package or I’d try to steal her.”_

_“Considering her stock options make her in one day what you make a month, I’d think no, but the last time Pepper negotiated her salary no one owned smart phones, so I’d also assume she has no idea. I did give her a private experience swimming with otters last year and that seemed to be a thing,” Tony shrugged._

_“Otters. Got it,” President Rogers nodded solemnly. “I’ll make a note. Anyway, I know you’re busy and so I won’t take up too much of your time, but I was wondering if you were free for dinner tomorrow evening? And Ms. Potts, of course, if she is also free. My son is rather enamored of you after reading that interview in the robot magazine and it would make his millennia to meet you. Could you come for dinner?”_

_“Peter’s heard of me? Isn’t he, like, 12?”_

_President Rogers grinned. “Going on 45, I believe, because thank God he got his mother’s brains. But yes, I’ve stopped him a few degrees short of building a shrine, but it is becoming, what did you say, a thing.”_

_Tony was momentarily bewildered but recovered quickly. “Pepper has an event tomorrow, how I remember that I don’t even know, but I was going to fly back home and get some work done but I have to admit I haven’t talked to a 12-year-old since I was twelve and I’m a little curious. So sure, Mr. President, I’d love to come.”_

_“Fantastic,” President Rogers said with such enthusiasm that Tony felt it in his bones. “He’ll be thrilled._

Tony had spent the first full day of the summit completely distracted. Thankfully he was so used to being in public high or drunk out of his mind that the PublicTony Act was down to a science. Days one, two, and three of the weeklong event were all public talks and idea exchange sessions, with the back four days for negotiations and business meetings based on the knowledge shared. 

It was a massive event that had taken over most of the Washington Convention Center. Tony was hosting days one and six and had been planning on being back in New York for the middling days, letting Pepper and Obie do the negotiating. The White House was hosting a dinner for many of the attendees on the evening of day six, where President Rogers was slated to address the crowd and address Tony’s public challenge of living up to the campaign promise of an overall 40% reversal of the effects of climate change in ten years. Tony had met Darcy Lewis, the President’s speechwriter, and between her and Barnes, Tony knew the speech would be good and he was sitting on the dais with Rogers and some others, but as far as Tony was concerned that was his day-to-day involvement in this thing.

But then a kid asked him to dinner.

He had been told by a scarily efficient aide that he should arrive at the West Gate by 6:30pm and to inform that guard of his name, produce a valid form of government identification, and then he would be escorted to the Residence. The dinner was to take place in the formal family dining area, which meant the dress code was business casual, and he had been asked to inform the aide of any allergies or food preferences. 

By 6:15, he was leaving his hotel suite and climbing into a private car Pepper had arranged for him. He was also slightly berating himself for losing his cool. 

_Tony, buddy_ , he said to himself, _you have got to calm the fuck down here. This is not a big deal. He is just a dude who has a nerd kid who wants to talk about robotics. Do not think about the meaning of the building or his title or how fucking insane it is that when I was the single largest government contractor this invitation never happened like it has for Howard or Obie so this isn’t about SI this is about me and isn’t that just the biggest mindfuck._

The car pulled through the gates and Tony fought slight goosebumps. He considered himself a patriotic American and he wasn’t going to lie that the presence of that building – lit up at night against a black winter sky – was enough to make him look for a flag to salute. 

“Mr. Stark?” A young woman greeted him at the door. “I’m Lelawala Parsons and the President has asked me to guide you.”

“That’s a beautiful name,” Tony said, more out of shock at hearing a name he never had before than anything. 

“Thank you,” she said with a small smile. “I’m named for a mythical heroine of my tribe. This way.”

 _Mental note: ask Jarvis about Lelawala_. Curiosity may have killed a few cats, but it was largely what powered Tony Stark’s brain. 

They walked mostly silently past portraits of Presidents and other works of art Tony vaguely recalled from his art history classes at boarding school. Along the way, Lelawala made small comments about what they were seeing. 

“What do you do here?” Tony blurted at one point. 

“I’m the Director of Indigenous Affairs,” she replied. “My role is to help native peoples gain equity within this government and to educate non-native peoples about who we are.”

“I feel like fetching a cantankerous dinner guest is a little below your pay grade,” Tony said with a wry grin. 

Lelawala laughed. “I’m part of the reason the President will be late to your dinner, because a meeting I promised him would be fifteen minutes turned into fifty and then he was called away to speak to the Colombian ambassador. I had a spare few minutes and he asked if I would be so kind. Besides,” she glanced sideways at Tony, “I need to speak with you about high speed internet access on reservations.”

Tony nodded, his brain whirring. “I saw numbers on that last month. The issue is not satellite positioning like your administration claims, it’s more to do with wind speeds and soil retention in most of the plains states after years of not rotating the soybean crops. They’re fucking the lines. After you solve that it’s just money.”

“Just money, says the billionaire,” Lelawala muttered to herself. “So you’re not arguing it’s bad?”

“God no, it’s an embarrassment. You guys are just fixing the wrong thing.”

She paused in their walk and cocked her head. “Can I set a meeting with you with someone who understands what you’re talking about during the summit?”

Tony thought fondly of his workshop, a week in its comfort slipping slowly away. “Yeah, someone around here has to know how to get a hold of Pepper. Tell her your code level is Maria and she’ll get you on my calendar.”

“Got it. Thank you, sir,” Lelawala said. 

“Now I get a question,” Tony responded. “You are, like, embarrassingly young to be in charge of things around here and I say that as the kid who got my doctorate at 20. My secret was terrible parenting and extreme boredom, what’s yours?”

She chuckled at that. “I’m 34 and I stopped at an MA in Indigenous History. That’s how I met the President, actually. I was doing my thesis lecture on the land rights of the Iroquois tribe in colonial America and your General Washington’s promises and he crashed the lecture. He was launching his gubernatorial race at that point and asked me to come work on his staff and one thing led to another and now I’m here.”

“He does that a lot, doesn’t he? Talk people onto his staff?”

Lelawala nodded. “Everyone on his main staff – both Senior and Director level – of whatever office was personally hired by the President. Mr. Barnes or Ms. Romanov or Mr. Coulson may have introduced us to him, but from campaign leadership positions to administrative ones, the President has the final say on his team.”

Tony thought about how he had no idea who worked for him except for Pepper and wondered if that should bother him. “Stand up guy,” he muttered softly. 

Lelawala cut him a glance. “I have been friends with President Rogers now for three years and I can tell you he is one of the greatest men I have ever met.”

Tony held up his hands. “That wasn’t a threat, princess, just a comment.”

“Princess?” She narrowed her eyes at him. 

His brain whirred. “Oh, shit, sorry? I call everyone stupid names, Pepper is always on me about it and the look on your face tells me that was probably vaguely racist and shit I’m trying to be better, I swear…”

She made a face and sighed. “It’s not appropriate to use terms of endearment on women you’ve never met, Mr. Stark, and surely you know better than to flirt with an Indian lesbian?”

“I don’t know better, no, you can always assume that,” he remarked, which earned both laughter and a slight smile. They continued that way until she left him in a comfortable sitting room in the Residence, with a promise to see him around, and he promptly pulled out his phone. 

“J, did you hear all of that?”

“Yes, sir, and may I say that you acquitted yourself quite professionally,” the AI said crisply, which told Tony his digital life-mate was annoyed. 

“The sentient bot with the sick burns, I know, I know.”

“Ms. Potts would want me to remind you that she is tired of sending fruit baskets to strangers apologizing for your quote runaway tongue unquote.”

“Sure, sure, let’s say you did and skip her pre-recorded lecture,” Tony sighed. “Get me everything on that Lelawala – both the woman I met and the chick she’s named for – and the budget lines for her office and their stated goals. Put it in a file on my server called ‘WH Dinner 1’.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sitting quietly wasn’t within Tony’s skillset, so he pulled up a few holographic schematics he was working on and fiddled while he waited. 

“That is so COOL.”

Tony turned towards the voice, seeing Peter Rogers staring back him from the doorway. 

“Hi Mr. Stark, I’m Peter Rogers,” the boy introduced himself, “and my dad said to tell you that he’s running just a little late because he’s on the phone with Uncle Bucky about something in the coffee country and I’m to remain polite and well-mannered until he arrives, but I'm also a little late from when he told me to come because I got distracted like I always do, so I'm sorry, what is that thing?”

Charmed despite himself, Tony turned the schematic towards the boy. “It’s a holographic image of an engine schematic I’m working on for wheelchairs.”

Peter was thoughtful. “So this is for people who are in the them all the time, not like when Dad fell down a mountain skiing and he had to be in for weeks.” 

“Well, that’s a story we can save for the next time Mr. Stark comes to dinner, don’t you think, Petey?” 

Tony shot to his feet at the sound of President Rogers’ melodious voice and stuck out his hand. “Sir.”

“Tony, right?”

“Yes, sir.” _Stark, why are you being awkward. He is a human, you are a human, he is powerful, so are you, what is your drama?_

The President smiled for a beat. “Here, in my house, please call me Steve. James Barnes is on his way, too, I hope that’s okay. I need someone to talk to while you and Peter fix the world.”

“Dad, he’s building a wheelchair engine,” Peter pointed to the hologram that was still floating about Tony’s phone. “And it looks totally different than the one Mr. Barton gave me.”

“Barton gave you a wheelchair engine?” Tony spoke before he could stop himself. “Why?”

Peter shrugged. “So I could see how it worked.”

Steve smiled the smile Tony would quickly come to define as the “Dad smile” and stage whispered. “Clint was babysitting and had no idea what else to do with him.”

Peter grinned. “Mr. Barton always brings me things to take apart. Do you want to see my workshop?”

“Um, yeah,” Tony said with sarcasm. “Workshops are my favorite. What are you working on now?” With a glance of permission back to Steve – who nodded decisively – Tony followed the boy into a separate room down the hall. 

“You are so fucked,” Bucky whispered from behind Steve, who jumped slightly. 

“Jesus, I am making you wear a bell, I swear to God and yes, I know.”

_________________________

It was easily one of the best dinners of Tony’s life. He and the kid had spent nearly an hour tinkering with some of the stuff in his little workshop and he could not remember the last time he had more fun.

The President – Steve – had been serious when he said the dinner was for Tony to meet Peter and there was something so simply lovely about that. This man who knew the best people in the world trusted both his kid and this stranger enough to let them get to know each other. That kind of parenting was so foreign to Tony. Hell, that kind of _humanity_ was foreign. 

If this had been a dinner with a world-famous guest in the Stark family household when Tony was 12, Howard and Maria would have demanded Tony be in a tuxedo – Starks always dressed for dinner – and present at the table for a ton of food he couldn’t stand. 

Dinner in the Rogers household was casual for Peter, who was in jeans and a sweater, and seemingly also for his father, who still wore his work clothes but had long since ditched his tie and jacket and had rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt when they sat down to dinner. _Oh God in his merciful heaven, the forearms._

Dinner at the Starks would have meant hours of listening to Howard and the guest talk about business while his mom and whoever else would have made mind-numbing small talk. Tony was forbidden from talking about any of his inventions or school and could only speak when spoken to. 

Dinner at the Rogers had Peter as a full participant. He told them about his day at school and regaled the adults with a particularly hilarious story of his friend Ned getting detention for setting a frog free during science class. He told Tony he picked tonight’s menu as Italian because he read in the article it was Tony’s favorite food, and then proceeded to recite a few of the paragraphs from memory. Barnes was a wry commentator, obviously over the moon for his godson and keen to tease his best friend non-stop. 

Peter peppered Tony with questions. Several times, Steve or Barnes tried to cut him off, and Tony waved them away, telling them Peter was more engaging than his entire board of directors. Finally, it was 8:30 and a lovely woman named Erin came to take Peter to bed. 

“I’ll be in to read you a quick story, okay, bud? Erin, can you set the timer thing? He flaked this morning. “

“Peter! We talked about the timer! Two minutes!” Tony heard the soft Irish lilt in the woman’s voice as she led the young man down the hallway. 

“Erin’s a graduate student at Georgetown, but when she’s not studying international economic patterns, she’s our live-in nanny,” Steve explained. “She’s my, like, second cousin or something, I can’t keep track, but Peter loves her. Peggy hired her when we were in the governor’s mansion to give Peter consistency when we were away.”

“Overshare, buddy,” Barnes muttered into his drink. Tony pretended not to hear, and not to see the faint blush on Steve's cheeks. 

“Anyway, thanks for coming, it clearly was the best thing to happen to my son since, I don’t know,” Steve said. 

“It was 100% my pleasure,” Tony said, taking a sip from his scotch. “Your kid is something else, honestly. I’d be happy to build things with him any time.”

Barnes laughed. “Do not let Petey hear that or you will have a child physically attached to you forever.”

“He’s a bit like a limpet when he bonds with someone,” Steve confessed with a grin. “Apologies ahead of time.”

Tony waved them off. “Well, I guess-“

“You gonna stop raking us in the press after this summit?” Barnes said, his tone betraying the threat behind the statement. 

“Ah, so we’re doing this. You gonna shift your administrative priorities away from military spending and into green energy?” Tony replied, his tone and his eyes matching Barnes’. 

“You really fucked our budget,” Barnes shrugged. “Danvers wants your balls as a necklace.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “If Hammer won’t give you the same subsidies that I did, I’ll make him. You have to buy twice as much shit of his anyway since his is glorified garbage, but I’ll make him meet your budget. Can I get my 20% increase now?”

Barnes barked out a laugh. “You think it’s that simple?”

“I think that Captain America over there usually gets what he wants,” Tony replied, using the press’ nickname for Steve when was campaigning. 

“Well that is a vast misunderstanding of my life,” Steve stated blandly. Tony met his eyes and saw fire behind them. “I’ve never made a secret that military spending – including funding for our soldiers long after they come home – is my number one administrative priority. It boots the American economy by supplying stable jobs and preventative mental health care, plus it has the added benefit of course correcting a bit from past administration’s bomb-first-ask-later when we focus on technology and personnel over weapons.

“While your abrupt about face is admirable, hell, I cheered for you after your press conference, it means that I have to rejig a lot of commitments we’ve made. It’s not just that Hammer is more expensive, it’s literally that his stuff isn’t as safe nor advanced and now our team has to scramble to figure out new ways to bring our folks home safely,” Steve concluded. 

“And I have sent you guys pages and pages and pages of data over the last five months that proves that the best way to make sure our soldiers aren’t fucked up is to never send them away from home, which means eliminating terror threats, which means eliminating global poverty and reversing climate change!” Tony’s voice was controlled, but slightly raised and he saw Barnes out of the corner of his eye shift his eyes to Steve. 

“Forgive us for not jumping to the marching orders of a man whose life changing epiphany is younger than the peanut butter in the pantry,” Steve said with a hint of sarcasm Tony had never heard from the President before. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go read to my son. You’re welcome to stay until I’m back, Tony, but I believe a subject change would be in our best interests.”

When he was gone, Barnes looked at Tony. “You’re a fucking pain in my ass, Stark.”

“Well, you and your boy are not making my life any easier.”

“By ‘your boy’ do you mean the President of the United States?” Barnes snapped. 

“Fuck off, Barnes.” Tony had been dealing with Barnes for _years_ and this protective bulldog act was tiring.

“No, I will not. He doesn't know you. I do. He asked you up here for Peter and you are annoyingly brilliant and maybe some of your ideas have merit, but he is still the fucking President and the right to call him _Steve_ comes with the acknowledgement that he is the most powerful public servant in our land.”

Tony opened his mouth and Barnes held up a hand. “Not done. He doesn’t hold grudges, that’s what he pays me for, so I’ve got my eye on you. You disrespect him or the responsibility he has to juggle as the inhabitant of this office, I will make your life very very miserable until we are out of office. Not because I don’t believe in what you’re trying to do, I totally do, honest, but because you insulted the best man I know. Are we clear.”

“Crystal,” Tony drawled. “My turn. I hate authority, I always have, and I always will. Titles are bullshit and respect is earned. I’ve been a little in awe of the President since yesterday, and I couldn’t figure out why and I think now it’s because he is both what I expected him to be and completely different and it’s wigging me out. You, on the other hand, are _exactly_ who I figured you’d be, even up here, in this room where I thought we could all be men and not global pawns. All charm on the outside, but really a hired hand thug from Brooklyn, the enforcer.

“I am an American. It is not only my right to push back on my President, it is my _responsibility_. I think you guys are doing a big thing badly and I’m lighting myself on fire to get you to see it. Good news is that I’ve got fuel to burn and a whole lot of time on my hands. You want me on your side, Barnes, I swear to God, you do. So we can argue about policy, bring it on, let’s get all the smartest people in the fucking world around a table – isn’t that what we’re doing this week – and let’s argue how to fix the planet, but don’t you dare, ever, ever, fucking threaten me again. Are we clear.”

“Crystal,” Barnes grunted. 

“Please give the President my regards and I’ll see you both at the dinner on Saturday,” Tony stood up and left the room, asking Jarvis to send the car as he strode down the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *High speed internet access in rural and poorer parts of America is a significant problem, and reservations are among the most rural and most impoverished sections of our country. I read an article arguing Tony's view, but I am zero percent a tech person, so they could be wrong about how to fix the infrastructure. We need to, though, and quick. 
> 
> Lelawala is a (mythical?) heroine of the Iroquois tribe - the first 'Maid of the Mist' in Niagara, actually. She's rad. 
> 
> Final note: while some of these characters certainly do speak for my particular persuasions, many don't. I'm trying to represent as many (conflicting) views of America as possible as these folks all wrestle with it means to lead.


	5. Chapter 5

“Well, that could have gone better,” Steve sighed to Bucky a few minutes later. 

Bucky waved his hand in absolution. “We didn’t bring him up here for me, we brought him up for Peter and for you. I can hold my tongue text time.”

“We didn’t bring him up here for me and we are not talking about this right now,” Steve silenced Bucky before Bucky could continue. “My type is smart as fuck and adores my kid, so not sure how you’d be so spot on with that prediction –“

“You forgot mouthy brunettes,” Bucky smirked to a flipped finger. 

“But nothing and I repeat with the emphasis of a thousand war ships, _nothing_ is going to happen.”

“I’d believe that if I hadn’t just looked at your calendar.”

Steve went bright red and worried his bottom lip. 

“Your martyr complex is alive and kicking, Stevie,” Bucky commented. “Inviting Stark to Peter’s science fair, Jesus Christ you are an idiot. I have said my piece and your friend Buck will stay quiet now. Your Coms Director has some serious reservations about you spending time with our enemy, but I’m going home now and leave you to wank off in peace.”

“Buck,” Steve said as Bucky made his way to the door. “This ends here. You trust me or you don’t. We have to work with this guy professionally and, personally, he’s the only one I know who can keep up with Peter. I’m not sacrificing that for anything.”

“This isn’t about trust, Stevie, this is about… fuck. Anyway, yes. No more snide comments, I promise. And I’ll play nice with the narcissist for my godson and for the sake of the country. Hand to God,” Bucky invoked the old neighborhood oath and strode out the door.

_________________________

_It’s not a secret that Rogers was sickly as a child,_ Tony read from one of the articles Jarvis downloaded for him. His charm offensive seemed to only work in regards to the kid, which was not going to help him save the planet, so it was time to resort to - *shudder* - academic research.

 _Born with a hole in his heart, Rogers went through four surgeries before his second birthday. Not only did they leave him with compromised lung capacity due to a complication after one, the constant medical attention Rogers required nearly bankrupted his parents. His father, a NYPD officer, was killed in the line of duty when Rogers was 6 and his mother died not long after from a heart attack, but that’s all old news._

None of that was old news to Tony. 

“Jarvis,” Tony said slowly. “Connect to Pepper, please.”

A few seconds later, the harried assistant was on a hologram in front of Tony and wasn’t even bothering to make eye contact. “What, Tony.”

“Did I know Captain America was an orphan?”

“Captain – God, did you use that when you were at dinner? Tony, we have TALKED ABOUT THE NICKNAMES, Jesus Christ, I should quit and then you’d see how fucked you be. But yes, you should. It’s, like, a cornerstone of his public identity.”

“Reeeallllyyyyy,” Tony drew out. “Anything else I should know?”

“Um, probably a thousand things if you missed the most basic,” Pepper blew her bangs out of her eyes. “What did you do at dinner?”

“What do you mean? I ate, I drank moderately, I was super charming, per usual, and I came home.”

“Nope, don’t believe it,” Pepper shook her head and peered directly at Tony. “Why are you doing biographical research on Rogers?”

Tony fiddled with his cuticles. “I gotta figure out why he won’t listen to me.”

“And you think you’ll find that in his Wikipedia?”

“I don’t know, Pepper!” Tony exclaimed. “But I have given him 100% certifiable ways to save the planet and he WILL NOT LISTEN TO ME and so there has to be something I can do because we are RUNNING OUT OF TIME.”

Pepper blinked twice. “Jarvis, I’m on my way.”

“Pepper-“ Tony protested, but the transmission was cut off and Tony knew it was futile. Instead, he poured another glass of scotch from the mini-bar and went back to futzing with the wheelchair engine he had shown Peter earlier in the evening. 

“Okay,” Pepper said as she entered sometime later. “Start at the beginning.”

“Of time?”

“No, you insufferable asshat, the night.”

Tony took a deep breath and started recounting his evening as they sat in the living room of his hotel suite. _The kid, oh my god, the kid is incredible, Pepper, I know I hate kids, but they will forever have an ‘except Peter Rogers’ asterisk because he is something the fuck else_ followed by long phrases of frustration about Barnes and finally Pepper held up her hand. 

“Barnes was there?”

“Yeah, did I not say that?”

“And you and Barnes fought?”

“I did not say that,” Tony said. 

“Oh that’s a solid assumption – I know you both and you’re both verbal processors with zero filter when your backs are up. Let me guess, you made a wisecrack, Barnes hissed at you, you hissed back, and then you slunk home?”

“How the fuck do you do that?”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Okay, a few things. One, what did the President say when you asked him about the funding?”

“Well, I didn’t ask, I offered a fair negotiation –“

“- I don’t believe that for a second because your business genius disappears when you talk about things you really care about-“

Tony flipped her off, but kept talking. “And Rogers said that he wasn’t going to upend his entire administrative policy for a quote life changing epiphany that isn’t as old as a jar of peanut butter end quote.”

Pepper snorted. “I mean, that’s kind of fair, Tony.”

Tony twisted his mouth. “I know and that is what is making me so mad.”

“Of course it is, right, okay, so you went in, verbal guns blazing, without even a basic Google search on your opponent?”

“Maybe….”

“Half-cocked and full of heart, Stark. That is your brand,” Pepper said affectionately. “Let’s start from scratch then. I assumed you knew the basics when you started flinging around challenges to the President, and yet I should not be surprised. Jarvis, a little help?”

“Of course, ma’am,” the AI responded from the portable transmitter on Tony’s nightstand. “Andrew Rogers, the President’s father, had come to the United States from Ballycastle, Northern Ireland when he was in his early 20s and became a police officer immediately. He met and married Sarah Campbell, also from Northern Ireland, in 1974. 

“The President was born in 1975 with a ventricular septal defect that required a long visit in the NICU at Maimonedes Children’s Hospital in Brooklyn, followed by several surgeries, two of which were unsuccessful due to complications. It was one of those complications that left him with a 35% loss of capacity in his left lung and left the President susceptible to pneumonia throughout his childhood,” Jarvis said. 

“Just his childhood?”

“Getting to that, sir,” Jarvis replied. “Officer Rogers was not shot in the line of duty, as the press reports state. He committed suicide with his service revolver in the fall of 1981, after the news that the President would need more surgery and they could not afford it. According to classified documents, his note explained to his wife that his life insurance pension with the NYPD would cover Steve’s surgery, but Officer Rogers did not read the fine print.”

“Jesus,” Tony said. 

“Jarvis, do we have the official files on his procedures at SI?” Pepper asked. 

“One moment, Ms. Potts,” Jarvis said and Tony looked at her bewildered. 

“Tony, we have got to work on your situational cultural awareness,” Pepper replied, with an eyeroll. 

“Let’s put that on the post-cave improvement list, shall we?” Tony snarked. “Just get on with it.” 

“The President’s mother worked for your mother, sir,” Jarvis interrupted. “Sarah Rogers was a maid at the mansion, which I am sure you don’t remember, especially because your father classified all of your family’s employment records after the Manhattan Project. Plus, I’m unsure if the President knows where his mother worked due to the NDAs your father forced all household employees to sign.

“Your mother heard of Sarah’s plight and intervened. She convinced your father to pull some strings to get the President’s medical care paid for and to have the suicide of his father covered up. The public record continues at this point, where it is known that the President was part of a test study run by Stark Industries in the early 1980s regarding childhood asthma and treatments he underwent there fixed not only his lungs, but his entire immune system. Unfortunately, his mother died before she could see the full results of the implantation of the breathing device.” Jarvis reported. 

“And who holds the patent on that device, Jarvis?” Pepper asked with a sly smile to Tony. 

“It is held jointly by Anthony Edward Stark and Howard James Stark, under proprietary code 402512 of Stark Industries.”

Tony’s jaw dropped. “The floppy lung thing I fucked around with before I left for MIT? Howard actually made that?”

“It’s currently implanted in over 3 million people worldwide, sir,” Jarvis explained. 

“You really should check your patents, Tony,” Pepper smiled. 

“How did you know?” Tony asked her. 

“I was in a meeting with Barnes when Rogers was governor that made me wonder and I dug around,” she shrugged. “I was just really impressed that Howard gave you partial credit.”

“And you didn’t tell me because?”

“I figured you’d be an ass about it.”

“Probably correct,” he conceded. “So we covered 1/2 of the orphan equation; when did his mother die?”

“When he was 8, sir, and your mother arranged for him to be raised in a private children’s home run by the Methodist Church in Flatbush, which is where he met Mr. Barnes, who cared for him while he was still sickly. Their bond is well documented, sir. He kept in touch with Ms. Romanov, who he grew up next door to. Mr. Barnes easily became the third of their triad. 

“And they all lived happily ever after,” Tony muttered. “Unless I want to guilt trip him, none of that helps me get what I want.”

“I disagree, sir.” 

“Are you psychoanalyzing strangers again? You remember what happened last time.”

“I shall endeavor to never repeat the Lady Gaga incident of 2017, sir, I promise. But this insight is a compellation and summary of many works on President Rogers, and I have prioritized three key personality traits which may help you. 

“First, he is known to be fiercely loyal to his staff, whom he considers his family. Your tussle with Mr. Barnes, therefore, shall have to be resolved within swift course. Second, despite being a very public figure, he is an intensely private man. General consensus around Washington is that only two living people really know him; Mr. Barnes and Ms. Romanov. When Margaret Carter Rogers was still living she was also counted among his close confidants. Again, I repeat your fight with Mr. Barnes was against your best interests. 

“Third and finally, he has placed extreme priority on the happiness and safety of his son. Your security clearances have let me see several memos that indicate if anything were to happen to young Mr. Rogers, the President would invoke the 25th Amendment immediately and temporarily recuse himself from power. Nothing is worth more to him than his son. You, sir, are worth quite a lot to his son.”

Pepper was thoughtful. “So, to get Rogers to see your side, you have to get him to trust you. To get him to trust you, you have to get close to Barnes and Romanov and the kid. And if you hurt the kid, he’ll probably have the Marines do something to you that will make the Ten Rings look like amateurs.”

“Fantastic summary, Potts,” Tony replied. “Barnes hates me and Romanov scares me, so that’s a no go, and even I feel icky about using a kid to advance my political agenda.”

“So glad to know your soul emerges occasionally,” Pepper rolled her eyes.

“Sir, I may have a piece of data to assist with this,” Jarvis interrupted. “you have an email requesting your presence at Peter Rogers’ science fair this Friday morning at 10am. It says he shall be demonstrating the model he showed you at dinner. Shall I respond with regrets?”

“Regrets, no! Why?”

“We have the Canadian ambassador then, Tony,” Pepper shot him a look. “We have to close the deal on the tariffs for-“ 

“Oh, you can handle that,” Tony waved her off. “He hates me, so just make sure to tell him I’m the worst boss ever and you’ll be in. The opportunity to judge lesser mortals sciencing? Can’t pass that up.”

“They’re children,” Pepper chided. 

“All the more reason for them to get used to disappointment early when Peter beats them all handily.”

“This is going to end so badly,” Jarvis bemoaned to Tony’s laughter.

“Tony,” Pepper said gently. “Here’s a wild idea. You really loved tonight with Peter, so head to his fair and heap praise on him like only you can. Encourage his love of science and if you get to know his dad a bit better in the meantime, that’s an added bonus. I’ll work on Romanov and Barnes and we’ll see how they respond to this week and we’ll go from there. We are not running out of time as quickly as your brain tells you we are, so let’s take a deep breath, shall we?” 

“Fucking sensible as always,” Tony grumbled. 

“Well, one of us has to be,” she rose from the couch and kissed his forehead. “Will that be all, Mr. Stark?”

“That will be all, Ms. Potts,” Tony smiled.

_________________________

“We want to thank you all for joining us this evening,” David Hooper, the Secretary of the Interior, said to the gathered room of environmental scientists, activists, politicians, and various members of the Rogers administration at the culmination dinner of the First Annual Environmental Improvement Summit. “We have had a productive week of meetings and I …”

Tony tried hard to pay attention to Hooper, he promised, but the man’s voice was just… Pepper caught Pepper’s eye from where she was sitting at the front table. Pay attention and look like an adult her eyes said – a look he knew well. He froze his face on ‘interested, but passively so’ – a look he had basically patented in 1994 – and thought back to earlier in the week. 

_“Mr. Stark!” Peter ran to where the men were seated, just off the stage. “Dad! Mr. Stark! Dad! Did you see?! I won!”_

_“We did!” President Rogers’ face was broken in a wide smile of pride, as he scooped up his son and gave him a big hug. “I’m so proud of you, kiddo,” Tony heard him whisper into Peter’s ear. “I’m so proud to be your dad.” Tony intentionally ignored the lump in his throat at how much he craved to hear those words from his dad and how freely President Rogers gave them out._

_“Well done, Peter,” Tony smiled at the boy. “I may need you to come in the lab and help me build a prototype.”_

_“You can’t be serious, really, really? I can come to your lab?” Peter was verbally off and running while the two men exchanged glances and grins. Peter followed his Secret Service agent out to the car – the kids were dismissed that day after the fair – and Tony followed the President to his car._

_“Thanks, seriously, for asking me to come,” Tony said, keeping his hands in his pockets in an attempt to look casual._

_“Oh, God, are you kidding me? I have earned so many cool Dad points today, I may actually get him to go his grandmother’s house without complaint this Christmas.”_

_Tony barked out a laugh. “I hated my grandmother’s house.”_

_“Peter hates flying,” the President responded. “And he doesn’t really know Peggy’s parents. They’re retired and living in the Costwolds and he hates how cold it is and he fought Peggy on it, too, but it’s not like I brought family into this, so we’re always with hers and I am rambling,” he cut off with a laugh. “Anyway, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”_

_“I’ll be the entitled idealist on the dias in the tux,” Tony quipped._

_“I’m speaking at an environmental event, Tony, that does not narrow it down.”_

He heard applause and saw President Rogers rise to take the podium. 

“Good evening!” He began jovially, flashing the room a smile that Tony had come to really find problematically attractive. After greeting the appropriate guests and making perfunctory statements, he shifted his stance and Tony somehow knew the speech was shifting to the good stuff. 

“My son is obsessed with robots,” he said to several chuckles. “I mean, obsessed. He thinks about them all the time, builds them, takes apart old electronics to pilfer them for parts, and comes up with all sorts of ideas for how we can use robots more. As you can imagine, his hero is our honored organizer, Tony Stark, who joined us for dinner earlier this week and spent over an hour working with Peter on a prototype that Peter is working on for… you know what? I’m not even sure.” The audience laughed. 

He took a sip of water and continued. “What I do know is that ever since that night, Peter has been reminding me that the future is one in which we use technology to our greatest advantage, just like we always have, which I know surprises no one here, but I needed the reminder. Something about dealing with the CBO has made me forget how to imagine, evidently.” Again, more laughter.

“I needed reminding that the printing press was a technological revolution, as were internal combustion engines, and muskets, and Betamax players. They were also rough drafts, or first iterations, or the start of something great that got even greater. Some of them are no longer necessary because we invented something stronger, something better, something… next. 

“This week, we’ve all been exploring what can be next. What’s next for air quality monitoring and water purification and air travel and so on. You are all in this room because you are actively working for what is next and the White House pledges to help you. We want to thank Tony Stark for – let’s be frank, bullying us into this –“ President Rogers grinned to laughter, “and are pleased to announce that our proposed budget will include a 10% increase in funding for EPA research into robotic technology. We will also begin exploring increased connections between STEM and humanities curriculums around the country in the hopes to connect the power of qualitative imagination with quantitative. We thank you for joining us this year and we look-“

That’s when Tony tuned him out and re-fixed his previous look. _10% into robots.. sure, not what I asked for, and that STEAM thing is the easiest part of their manifesto and not even on my list. Game on, Rogers._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation - CBO: Congressional Budget Office - A non-partisan office of number crunchers who help figure out what different policies will actually cost the American taxpayers.
> 
> Also, my Googling hit a brick wall before I could ensure that the hospital in Brooklyn was named that in the 1970s. So, if it's super wrong, mea culpa. 
> 
> Coming up next: Tony asks Steve some questions, Tony and Steve make a bet, and everything continues to get complicated.


	6. Chapter 6

“Well, that could have gone better,” Natasha said, unknowingly echoing her best friend from earlier in the week. 

“It also could have gone much, much worse,” Pepper responded. She took a sip of her coffee and sighed deeply. 

_“Your boss looks like he wanted to eat rocks at my boss’ speech, so we should probably meet up,” Natasha had murmured to Pepper before they left the banquet._

_Pepper nodded almost imperceptibly. “Intercontinental, Suite 807. Tony is spending tomorrow with Rhodey, but we’re wheels up at 1800.”_

_“Breakfast sounds wonderful.”_

“He’s not going to get 20% off the floor,” Natasha said. “Our numbers say the highest we’re going to get is 10%, which is why Darcy put that in the speech.”

“Bullshit, Natasha,” Pepper scoffed. “That’s how high you can get half-assing your environmental policy. Put the full weight of the White House behind the thing you guys ran on and I think we’ll all be surprised at what’s possible.”

“This is why politicians hate businessmen, Pepper. You guys think that as soon as someone on high speaks, everyone will hop to. That is not how it works. The President’s approval ratings hover in the 60% range and we need that to get re-elected. If Stark could hold his panties until re-election-“

“-that’s a year away-“

“-then maybe we can talk,” Natasha concluded. “But if he’s going to bully us on his timeline, let me tell you, Pepper, the President doesn’t like bullies.”

“He’s not bullying,” Pepper protested to a raised eyebrow. “He’s not. He’s holding you guys accountable to a promise you all made to us and you know it. Barnes called him a bully and he hasn’t stopped snarking about it for days, so trust me, if you want Tony to be a productive member of this new world, you need to stop saying that him doing his level best to protect the planet after he spent decades helping destroy it is bullying.”

Natasha gave her a glare that withered most men, but which Pepper met with equanimity. 

“Fine, I take your point and I will speak to my team and correct their misunderstanding,” Natasha conceded. 

“Thank you,” Pepper replied. 

“Now, do you know what elements Tony can negotiate on? Our differences aren’t ideological, Pepper, they’re practical. We know what will pass and what will work and you guys don’t.”

“And this is why business people hate politicians,” Pepper laughed lightly. “You know what your polling data tells you, and we know how to follow the money. Trust me, if you guys threw your weight behind Tony, he’d get you the votes.”

“So, follow your money and tell me what he’s willing to give up,” Natasha remarked and the two women talked policy back and forth for a long while. 

“Nat, why didn’t you ever run?” Pepper asked quietly. “Rhodes scholar, top of your class at Yale Law, MA from Oxford – you could have wiped the floor with the President at the debates.”

Nat snorted. “First of all, you’re wrong, but thank you for the compliment. And second, I have had the President’s six since he was too sick to hold his head up to cough and even then I knew he was the greatest man I had ever met. He needs someone to corral his better angels and shout down his strongest demons and I applied for that position when I was eight. Even when he was in the home and I had to take two buses on a Sunday and had to waste half of my time with him talking about Barnes, he was my brother, and he’s the front man. We can’t all be heroes, after all, because someone has to clap for the parade when it goes by.”

Pepper laughed. “I met Tony when I was in my 20s, so the history isn’t there, but… I get that. This man he’s trying to be now is who I’ve always known he could be.”

“Yeah, while we’re both on Oprah’s couch over here, I need to ask why the fuck you stayed with him for so long.”

“I have asked myself that so many times, Natasha, you have no idea.”

“Call me Nat,” the other woman replied. “My friends do.”

Pepper raised an eyebrow and Natasha continued. “Women in this town who aren’t trying to destroy each other’s careers are few and far between. If Peter is as in love with Tony as the President says he is, then you and I are probably in each other’s lives for good, so let’s just agree to move past formality.”

“Nat,” Pepper continued slowly, with Nat’s small smile encouraging her on. “I think I’m with him the same reasons you’re with the President – that I know he’s the best man I’ve ever known, and he so rarely believes that. I don’t think it’s any sort of corporate secret that Howard Stark was an absolute disgrace of a father and reacting to that took all of Tony’s emotions for decades.

“But he came back different from that cave,” Pepper continued. “I’ve gotten a crash course in PTSD and trauma and flashbacks and nightmares in the last five, six months. I can identify his different screams now – the ones that mean he can feel them doing the heart surgery, the ones that mean they made him watch them kill someone, the ones… Well, you love military men, so I’m sure you get what I’m saying.”

“Pause, though, heart surgery?”

“Yeah,” Pepper toyed with her cup. “God, he’d kill me for telling you this, but I think you need to understand.”

“I’m a real good secret keeper, Pepper, I promise. I won’t tell the Death Eaters where Harry is.”

“When that bomb went off, it decimated his body. The best the surgeons can tell me from the scars is that they think there was shrapnel in about 40% of him, but a lot of it was in his heart. The kidnappers also kidnapped a local surgeon and forced him to do something to keep Tony alive – and all he could think to do was to build a magnet in Tony’s chest cavity.”

“Jesus Christ,” Nat swore. “I don’t even know what that means.”

“It means that for about two months he was attached to a car battery to keep him alive. Then – you know that thing we have powering our plants in California? The one he got the Nobel for? It’s called an ARC reactor and he made a tiny one and put it in his own chest and a version of it is still there. As far as I know, he’ll have an ARC reactor in his chest for the rest of his life,” Pepper concluded. “Every time he breathes, he’s reminded how close he came to death and how many people he killed with his weapons and how so many soldiers don’t come back and so many more come back with trauma, and he has to fix it, Nat.”

“When Steve went to go see Bucky, after the arm,” Nat responded, “he had some other shit going on with Peggy and he really should have gone back home to her, but he came to mine and drank himself sick and cried about how he had to fix it, screaming at me that he had to fix it, and I wrote my first campaign plan for him that night.”

“So, they’re fighting the same problem from opposing angles,” Pepper responded after a few minutes, noticing how Nat had started using the President’s first name.

“And they’re both stubborn asshats who will not listen to reason if it bit them in the dick once they’re convinced they’re right,” Nat responded as Pepper nodded. “So you need to convince Tony to tell Steve that story. He needs to understand that Tony is a fellow veteran in that way, that this isn’t a flight of fancy of a rich dude who grew a conscience.”

“And if you could call off Barnes, that would help,” Pepper admitted. “I understand him wanting to protect the President, but if we want to get something productive out of this-“

“Say no more,” Nat said. “Even if Bucky was 100% right in what he said to Tony, I can guarantee you he got all Scarface about it, so leave it with me.”

The two women smiled at each other, letting the feeling of accomplishment hover in the room. Finally, Pepper raised her coffee mug. “To saving the planet.”

“To getting shit done."

_________________________

“Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, DAAAAAAAAAD,” Peter screamed as he ran into Steve’s office, brandishing the StarkPhone he used to talk to Tony about ‘science stuff’. “Mr. Stark wants to talk to you!”

“Peter,” Steve stated. 

“I know, I know, no running because I might bang into a Marine, I KNOW DAD, but Mr. Stark said it’s urgent.”

_‘Mr. Stark didn’t say that, Peter,’_ came the disembodied voice from Peter’s phone. _‘Hi, Mr. President, I simply asked Peter if you could call me when you had a minute.’_

Steve raised an eyebrow at Peter, who had the good grace to blush and avert his eyes. “So, Dad, can you talk to Mr. Stark?”

_‘Yeah, Dad, can you?’_

Steve chuckled despite himself. “Mr. Stark, I’ll call you back from my private line.”

_‘Connect to Jarvis’s line, I’m in the workshop.’_

It was the Sunday before Thanksgiving and Steve was enjoying an unusually quiet night going over briefing memos while the football game droned on in the background. He and Peter had screened the newest Pixar movie earlier and cooked dinner together – a tradition Peggy had instilled in their small family and one her men were committed to keeping. He was ignoring the voice in his head saying that talking to Tony would be a great way to end a great day. 

“Steve,” Tony called once he picked up the phone. “Are you on the holographic one I gave you?”

“No,” Steve said tightly. 

“Are you afraid of it?”

“I am not afraid of a phone.”

“Then turn it on.”

“Voice is fine, Tony, I don’t need to see your face to talk to you.”

“You graduated from NYU with a 3.9 while holding down a full-time job at the VA, you’re a decorated war veteran with so many medals I can’t even keep track, you are the only other dude I am okay losing Sexiest Man Alive to, and you are flummoxed by a phone your son can take apart and put back together,” Tony laughed. 

“Yes, fine,” Steve grumbled. “It makes me feel like an idiot.”

“Oh, sugarplum, we wouldn’t want that now.”

Somehow, over the last three weeks, Mr. Stark and President Rogers had ably become Tony and Steve, and not even just when they were discussing Peter. The day after the summit, Tony had dropped two advanced StarkPhones off at the White House for Peter and Steve with a proprietary app that would allow them to communicate about Peter’s various projects. It took all of ten minutes before Steve opened up a separate chat in the app for just him and Tony. The conversation started with asking some basic definitions of terms Peter used a lot and spawned quickly into other territories. 

Some were some basic information, get-to-know-you, chit chat. 

_Steve: I had to sign seventeen pieces of paper about this phone, promising I wasn’t to share the launch codes with you._

_Tony: Did you tell them I already have them?_

_Steve: What._

_Tony: Oh, Captain America, you cannot seriously think that I stay within the bounds of my security clearance._

_Steve: I did not just read that._

_Tony: Fine. Are you various minions comfortable with this now?_

_Steve: Someone called your office and was told the phone is so proprietary that only you have access to the data about it and that seemed to make everyone breathe a little easier. Oh, and I showed them that I only use it to play Two Dots and monitor you and Peter._

_Tony: You are still playing Two Dots?_

_Steve: It’s soothing. And, if I’m careful, I can play it during terrible meetings and people think I’m taking notes._

_Tony: Scandalous, Cap!_

_Steve: You have no idea._

Some were about Peter. 

_Tony: I sent a box down to him with some of my old tools. Jarvis made sure they’ll all pass Secret Service clearance, and he even called the number you gave him to double check._

_Steve: Tony, I am running out of room._

_Tony: You live in the fucking White House, Steve._

_Steve: Not for ever._

_Tony: So I’ll help him downsize._

_Steve: You are a stubborn asshat._

_Tony: Thank you, darling, what a compliment coming from a stubborn jackass._

Some were about the candidates Steve would possibly face in the next election. 

_Tony: Rumlow is your biggest problem._

_Steve: Bucky says so, too._

_Tony: Barnes and I actually agreed on something and the sun didn’t collapse on itself? Fetch me my smelling salts._

_Steve: *eyeroll emoji*_

_Tony: But seriously, Rumlow. Pierce, too. They’re a real problem if they’re a ticket._

_Steve: Pierce? Really?_

_Tony: Yeah. Next time I see you, remind me to tell you about the time he came to dinner when I was 15. Spoiler alert: he and Howard were great friends._

_Steve: Fuck, that sounds delightful._

And some were… more. 

_Tony: Public records say it was a car accident, but I’ve never been sure._

_Steve: What else could it be?_

_Tony: I honestly don’t know. But the same way I’m not convinced that the Ten Rings just happened to know exatly what Humvee I was in without someone on the inside, I’m skeptical that my father, who held the same license as Formula 1 drivers, skidded off the road on a perfectly clear night._

_Steve: Do you want me to have someone poke around?_

_Tony: If the call is coming from inside the house, it’s SI, not yours, sugarbabes, but thanks._

“I’m going to ignore your luddite tendencies for now and make this quick,” Tony continued. “Where are you and Peter thanksgivinging?”

“Um, we usually go to Camp David, so I’m sure that’s the plan this year.”

“Why don’t you come here instead?”

“Here being….”

“I live on the top five floors of Stark Tower in Manhattan. Pepper just reminded me that this is her year to make me do traditional Thanksgiving – she only tortures me every three years – and we thought that maybe Peter would want to poke around the workshop with me and you could, I don’t know, maybe take a nap or something for once in your fucking administration.”

Steve barked out a laugh. “I come with Bucky, too, and Nat, I think.”

Tony grumbled something unintelligible and Steve could hear Pepper’s voice. “Yes, fine. Bring Grumpy Bear and Scary Spice.”

The nicknames are going to kill me someday in all the best ways, Steve thought with a giant smile on his face. “Can you have Pepper call Agent Fury and make all the necessary arrangements?”

“Pep,” Steve heard Tony call, “do you have the number for the head of the Secret Service.” Tony paused. “She said she has the phone numbers for the head of every security branch on the planet and how dare I doubt her.”

“I was going to get the National Zoo to name the next otter pup after her.”

“Pepper, you are the love of my life and I would cease existing without you,” Tony yelled over Steve’s laughter. “Oh, and your son mentioned something truly sinful to me the other day,” Tony continued. 

“What?”

“Is it possible he has never seen the original _Star Wars_ trilogy?”

“I would say, yes, very possible because I’ve never seen them.”

There was dead silence on the other end of the line. 

“Tony?”

“It’s shock I’m in, I think that’s what they call this, when everything feels floaty and weird and I can’t move my limbs. What the hell do you mean you’ve never seen _Star Wars_? How did you get elected?!”

“I mean, I’d like to think its because the American people felt my vision for a stronger America was the best one and that they trusted me to deliver it, but if you’re telling me the second go could be kiboshed by the fact that I’m not into beaming up or whatever, then perhaps I’m wrong,” Steve said dryly. 

“There are so, so many things wrong right now that I think we’re ripping the space time continuum,” Tony sighed and Steve bit back a chuckle. “Okay, new schedule. You, Spidey, Robo Cop, and Ninja Spice get here around 11 and we’ll watch the first movie, and then the main event, and then the other two and I am having Jarvis email you right now with the differences between _Star Trek_ and _Star Wars_ because I can’t possibly be friends with a man who doesn’t know them by heart.”

“I shall do my best to not let you down, sir,” Steve snarked. 

“That’s the spirit! See you Thursday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation: 
> 
> \- "the floor" - essentially, Nat means that they'd never get the bill through congress. Bills in the U.S. have to pass the House of Representatives and/or the Senate before they can be signed into law by the President. The President cannot make laws and can only send bills to the floor of the House or Senate for them to get debated and voted on. If this is confusing, please Google "Schoolhouse Rock I'm Just a Bill" and let the 1980s help. 
> 
> \- "ticket" is the phrase for candidates running together as President and Vice President. Lots of history there and if you're really curious, hit me up in the comments and I'll dust off the professor hat and go to town.


	7. Chapter 7

_Nat: So, we’re all crashing your dinner?_

_Pepper: Yes, thank God. Rhodey is still deployed, so it would have just been me and Tony and all the food and so yes, please come._

_Nat: What can I make everyone bring?_

_Pepper: No, it’s fine, just yourselves._

_Nat: Pepper, I have been to enough WASP parties to know that’s code for ‘I’m overworked but can’t let you know’, so either tell me what to bring or I’m making my grandmother’s borscht._

_Pepper: Jesus, that sounds threatening. Fine, I have the turkey, potatoes, and stuffing covered, but I usually just get a pie from Zarro’s so if you want to deal with dessert, that would be lovely. Also, can you get me in touch with the chef in the Residence? We have zero child appropriate food._

_Nat: Well, Peter doesn’t eat child appropriate food, but I’ll send you their weekly shopping list so you get a gist. I’m sure Jarvis can get everything with no problem._

_Nat: And, I love baking, so how is pumpkin, apple, and chocolate crème for pies?_

_Pepper: Miraculous, is what that is._

_Nat: And Bucky acutally makes really good green beans, so he’ll bring that, and then… well… Steve has Peggy’s family recipe for a carrot casserole thing that I know he and Peter would like to make to bring._

_Pepper: Sounds like we’re having a feast._

_Nat: Now, most importantly, what are you and I drinking while the testosterone nerd fest is happening?_

_________________________

Peter was, predictably, elated at the idea of Thanksgiving at Mr. Stark’s. Bucky, predictably, less so.

_“You promised Steve you were done. That doesn’t just mean holding your tongue, idiot, that means actually being supportive of this – whatever they have,” Nat rolled her eyes._

_“He is going to hurt him,” Bucky replied._

_“Whichever name is attached to whichever pronoun is probably true, but when is the last time you saw Steve open himself up like this?”_

_Bucky glared at her._

_“When, Buck?”_

_“Peggy,” Bucky grumbled. “Which is why this is stressing me the fuck out! If he was with Stark, I’d deal, if he hated him, I’d deal, but this odd pretending to be friends?”_

_“Right, let’s clear this up. You do not get to decide when or how Steve acts out his sexuality,” Nat growled. “You do not get to decide how he feels about anyone – yes, I know he’s clearly fallen for Tony but that is irrelevant – you are not the arbiter of his happiness, James! My deep professional prayer is that Steve remains celibate until his title switches to ‘former’, but how could I possibly tell my best friend to…”_

_“So, I’m going to Thanksgiving at the house of the man Steve will probably marry, as long as his pedantic insistence on being in the closest doesn’t kill it first?”_

_“How about you’re going to Thanksgiving at the house of the man our best friend has found a surprising friend in and whom our godson thinks hung the moon and you will keep an open mind about maybe you could enjoy his company, too.”_

_Bucky grumbled at her. “Fine, FINE. I promised Steve I’d play nice, so I will. Let me head to the gym and talk to the weight bag about my feelings and I’ll deal and this is the last we’ll talk about it, I promise.”_

Steve was… a bundle of emotions. And whenever he was a bundle of emotions, he talked to his wife. And so, early on Thanksgiving morning, Steve laid in bed and talked to Peggy. 

“Babe, this is weird one,” Steve began. “I think you’d really like him, I mean, I’m sure he would absolutely infuriate you, but in all the best ways. Your dad and his dad were friends, actually, I think, so you may have met Howard, or even Tony, I’m not sure. Anyway. I hope you’re seeing him with Peter. I haven’t seen our boy this happy since you were alive, honey.”

When Steve had met Peggy, he was on a 24hr leave at a British Army base somewhere in Yorkshire that he could never remember the name of. He had just been promoted to Captain – which was absurd, as far as he was concerned – and had been asked to take a meeting with a staff member from MI5.

_“Captain Rogers?” He turned to see possibly the most beautiful woman on the planet holding her hand out to him. “I’m Agent Margaret Carter.”_

_Shaking his hand, “Steve, please.”_

_“Well, then,” she smirked and his heart skipped a beat. “Peggy, please.”_

He coaxed her into dinner that night, which led to a pub just off base where they stayed until closing time, which led to him begging her a phone number she had already entered into his phone back at the pub. ‘Besotted’ didn’t even cover it. Peggy was like a supernova to Steve, she simply absorbed him into her orbit, and vice versa. Neither one of them, Bucky would say for years, stood a fucking chance.

In bed in the White House, Steve took a deep breath, blinked away a few tears and continued. “We told the press we’re all at Camp David to just make things easier, and we are technically going there first, but then Tony is sending a small plane to get us because I am now friends with someone who doesn’t own just one plane, but several, most of which he designed himself.”

Two years they had lasted on fleeting meetups and secure Skype calls. For New Year’s Eve 2004, Steve had managed to trade in some favors and get a week break in London at Peggy’s house. On the morning of the fourth day, something shifted. 

_“Steven, I am going to ask you a question and I want you to be completely honest with me,” Peggy had said. “I do not want you to consider my feelings, I just want you to be honest.”_

_“Okay,” Steve said, his brow furrowed in confusion._

_“Are you attracted to me?”_

_“What?”_

_“Are you attracted to me?”_

_“Peg, are you fucking joking? Yes, yes, wow, yes. Why?”_

_She worried her bottom lip. “Something just feels off when you’re in me, like… you’re not here. And I wondered if you were thinking of someone else, if you were dreaming of something.”_

_“God, Peg, no,” Steve was turning red._

_“Not Natasha?”_

_“Please,” he scoffed._

_“Not Bucky?” her tone was gentler with that name._

_“No, Peg,” but he noticed, as she did, that he hesitated for a half-breath. “Peggy, I love you, you know that, and when I finally get out of this tour, we can start building something together that isn’t founded on internet cables.” He got up from his side of the table and kissed her, hard, running his hands through the back of her hair like she liked. “Now, we have three more days to make memories.”_

“This is where I think you’d poke me, roll your eyes and say ‘friend?’ and you’d be right, just like… I don’t know what I’m doing here, but I’m asking you to talk to all your angel friends and help me not fuck it up, will ya? I can’t fuck up our kid, or my job, or this guy, and I goddamnit I just miss you so much, Margaret. Why did you fucking have to leave,” Steve fought the push of tears gathering behind his eyes.

The history books would say that he lost Peggy on August 30, 2020, but he had actually lost their future on June 25th of that year, when all the test results said ‘inoperable’ and her doctors gave her six weeks, and they started making choices. 

_“You have to come out, Steven, at some point, please promise me,” she gasped one evening towards the end as the pain medicine took hold. He had flown back to New York from a campaign event in Texas for an overnight with his dying wife. “Never let them take what we had – never let them say I was your beard or that you were ashamed, make sure no one outs you and steals our truth. Tell them we loved deeply and forever, but that I ruined you for all other women, so you had to start sucking dick.”_

_He laughed quietly at her oft-used explanation for his sexuality. It had been a long process for both of them, something that started in the ashes of their daughter’s death and was reborn in the promise of their son._

_“I will tell them, Pegs, don’t worry. I’m going to lose to Carlin anyway, so I get to slink back to the governor’s mansion and just do that job I’m underqualified for, and not this one I’m way underqualified for.”_

_“Hush your handsome mouth,” she whispered. “You are the best man, Steven Grant Rogers. You will be the best President, if not now then in 2024 when Nat fixes whatever we did wrong this time. You will change the world, my love, you will raise our son with all the hopes and dreams and resources you can scavenge for him and you will do me proud because you already do. I’m sorry to leave you, but I’ll do my best to make sure someone else comes along to love you and that he has the proper genitalia this time.”_

He laid in silence for a few minutes before glancing at the clock. 0526. This was a lie-in these days – his alarm usually went off at 0500 on the dot and Nat was in his living room by 0630 for the first round of meetings of the day. But he’d pardoned a turkey the day before and recorded an address and so that meant that – barring any international emergency – he got to be a human being for the next four days. 

“Pegs, you promised you’d send someone to help. You know I’m no good on my own and it’s really time to let Bucky and Nat stop picking up after me, so is it too much to ask that you sent this one? I like Tony, Pegs, and I think he's worth coming out for,” Steve’s voice dropped to a whisper, “and it would make it so much sweeter if I knew he was your choice.”

_________________________

“You’re not the only Bionic Barbie around here, you know,” Tony said to Bucky with a slight slur in his voice.

Bucky’s eyebrow raised as Tony started unbuttoning his dress shirt. “Whoah, Stark, take it easy, I’m outta singles.”

Tony ignored him as he peeled back the nanoprene shield he used to cover the glow when he was in public. 

“What the fuck is that?” Bucky breathed. 

“This, pal, is keeping me alive.”

It was about 11:30 at night on Thanksgiving and everyone else had gone to bed. Tony and Bucky decided it was high time to break out Tony’s Barry Crockett Edition Middleton Whiskey – which Bucky had only seen on shelves and giggled like a small child when he saw it on Tony’s. ½ of the bottle in, and… well, tongues were loose. 

“Details,” Bucky said, sitting attentively and with focus that reminded Tony he was once the most decorated sniper in the Marine Corps. 

“Well, the thing I want you to research how we get it in every building in America? It’s this. My Nobel Prize Winning masterwork that I also managed to make a bastard version of in a cave in Afghanistan,” Tony said, taking another sip. 

Bucky’s eyes were still fixed on him. “A cave. You built an ARC reactor in a cave.”

“You know about my ARC reactor? Oh, Grumpy Bear, I am touched!”

“Can it, Glow-In-The-Dark,” Bucky scowled. “I told ya, I’m into green tech, I’m just not into it at the expense of mental and physical health care for vets.”

Tony nodded. “I get it, I do, but we gotta figure out a way to do both.”

“We-“

Tony held up his hand. “I built this in a cave because it was this or death, Barnes. I was drunk or high for most of my 20s trying to ignore that my wealth was built on the carcasses of innocents. Sure, Howard told me it was all noble because they had to get weapons somewhere, right? So why don’t we make sure the weapons are the best ones and that was the way to protect the troops. I didn’t even bother questioning if we weren’t starting at the wrong place.

“What I realized in that cave was that all my name stands for is the guy standing on a pier, throwing life jackets to the drowning people floating by. Now I’m the guy hiking up stream to figure out who the fuck has thrown all these folks in the river. All I’m asking is for you to start hiking with me.”

Barnes took a long sip of his whiskey. “You built an ARC Reactor in a cave. Rhodey didn’t save you, did he, you fucking saved yourself.”

“My safe return home was a team effort,” Tony mumbled. 

“Stark –“

“Yes, I built a suit made of iron scraps I told them I was using to build a Jericho missile and, using the power of the ARC reactor, I flew to Rhodey’s camp,” Tony admitted as Bucky started to laugh. “But he made sure I got back to Malibu!”

Bucky’s laugh grew louder. “Jesus Christ, Stark, just when I think I have you pegged…”

“Mutual, Barnes, mutual,” Tony winked and drained his glass. “Well, Sir Frowns-A-Lot, I’m heading to bed. Just tell Jarvis whatever you need and he’ll tell you how to get it or have it delivered. I’m in the workshop with Peter tomorrow.”

“I was going to take you up on your napping offer while you teach young Padawan your ways,” Bucky responded, grinning, “and you and I both know that Steve should to, but he’ll be chomping at the bit to hear all the wonderous things you teach Petey.”

“He is, like, the most intense dad I’ve ever met,” Tony said, shifting himself to roust off the couch.

“His parenting model is based on books, the doctor he had at SI when he was little – Erskine – and, swear to god, Coach Taylor from _Friday Night Lights_.”

Tony barked laughter. “Clear eyes?”

“Full hearts-“

“Can’t lose!” The men said together, chuckling softly. 

“I had the flu in 2012,” Tony said, “and was out for four days straight and Pepper and I just monstered that entire series. She’ll still sometimes sign texts as QB1.”

Bucky cackled as Tony got up and started to leave the room. “Stark?”

Tony turned back, “Barnes?”

“I thought you’d be bad for him. So far, I’m wrong.”

Tony blinked a few times. “Big one or little one?”

“Both,” Bucky admitted, keeping strict eye contact with Tony. “So far, I’m wrong. I hope I keep being wrong. On this, I’d like very much to be wrong forever.”

Tony nodded curtly. “If I prove you right, you get to go full Brooklyn.”

“Deal.” 

Tony saluted Bucky – “night, Sargent” – and started towards the stairs that would take him from the living room up to his bedroom when he heard a soft cry coming from down the hall. Padding quietly towards the sound, he realized it was coming from Peter’s room, and his steps quickened. Cracking open the door, he saw the small boy thrashing around in the bed. 

“Jarvis,” Tony whispered. “Get Steve immediately.”

“Yes, sir,” Jarvis immediately responded. 

“Hey, Petey,” Tony called softly as he advanced on the bed. He reached out to touch Peter’s shoulder, but the boy only thrashed harder. “Petey, kiddo, wake up.” No response, but within seconds, the door flung open and Steve filled the frame. 

“Thanks, Tony, I’ve got it from here,” Steve smiled sadly, and climbed up next to Peter on the bed. “Peter, sweetheart, I’m right here, whatever is happening is fake, my voice is real, breathe with me, breathe-“

Tony froze in place, watching as Steve repeated the mantra over and over, feeling any vestiges of alcohol leaving his body. It took what felt like an eternity, but finally Peter was breathing easier again and snuggled closer into Steve. 

“Night terrors,” Steve whispered. “They started when Peggy got sick. He never fully wakes up, he just panics himself. He hasn’t had one in a while, but he’s in a strange bed and it’s a holiday, and I should have thought of that.”

“Jarvis knows what they sound like now, so he’ll monitor Peter from here on out.”

“Mr. President, is there anything else of Master Peter’s habits I should know about to ensure his safety?” Jarvis enquired.

Steve smiled gently. “He never remembers to brush his teeth long enough, so if you want to join us in yelling at him about that, I’d be obliged.”

“Yes, Mr. President.” 

“Well, I’m awake now,” Steve said as he slid out of the bed and followed Tony out of the room. Which is when Tony noticed, fully, that Steve was wearing sweatpants and a really tight t-shirt.

_Do not stare, do not stare, heterosexual Commander in Chief, do not stare._

“I was on my way to bed but seeing a child twist in terror has a way of shocking one awake,” Tony confessed. “Leftovers?”

“A Thanksgiving tradition,” Steve smiled as the pair made their way to the kitchen. 

They made small talk as they prepared plates, settling down at the table with their bounty. 

“Thanks, Tony,” Steve said. “Today was pretty great.”

“It was, wasn’t it,” Tony said, in mock humility. “Most of my ideas are.”

“Yes, like the caramel popcorn?”

“I was very clear with Bucky about the melting point of caramel.”

“Uh huh.”

“I was!”

“Sure.”

“Fine,” Tony grumbled and Steve chuckled. 

“Seriously, Peter is over the absolute moon to work with you tomorrow, too, so thanks for that.”

“You have to stop thanking me for being with the kid, it’s honestly my pleasure,” Tony said around a mouthful of chocolate crème pie. “It’s like what people will always promise me interns will be like, but Peter’s smart.”

“I’m honestly thrilled I met someone who can keep up with him,” Steve said, piercing turkey with his fork. “Peggy was keeping up, but I’m usually lost when he gets started on circuit boards.”

“If you weren’t President what would you be?” Tony said, abruptly changing the subject. 

“If I had lost, my plan was to finish out the governorship and then teach art at a high school somewhere,” Steve confessed. “Why?”

“That was not the answer I was expecting,” Tony said. “You just talk a lot like you’re too dumb to understand Peter’s world, which isn’t true at all, it’s just that I get circuit breakers and you get people. I’m terrible with people, you’re terrible with wires, but they're easy to learn, way easier than people, so it’s all good, but I figured the answer would be something with vets or the military or some nonprofit somewhere making me feel guilty enough to give money.”

“Like how Sarah McLaughlin spent years ruining our days for the SPCA?”

“JESUS CHRIST, those commercials were terrorism!”

The pair laughed, and then Steve continued. “I love art. I always have. It’s, this sounds cheesy, but it’s how I see the world, through visual stories. Sketching is my stress release – I drive Nat nuts with the doodles in the margins of my briefing memos. And I’m worried that with all the focus on circuit boards we’re losing focus on, well, people.”

“Ah, that’s where that sociology major was hiding,” Tony laughed. 

“With a double major in art history and a minor in English,” Steve said. 

“You were assistant director of the NY VA when you graduated,” Tony said. 

“Pause, can we have a minute for how you have creepily memorized my bio?”

“Eidetic memory. I read your Wikipedia and now it’s gospel, sorry pal,” Tony shrugged. 

Steve rolled his eyes. “Fine, yes, I was also married and had no coping skills for trauma. Peggy was working all the hours God sent, so I did too. I took summer classes, too, which helped, and the VA really wanted me to have a BA, so some folks were flexible.”

“Still, you’re fucking smart, Mr. President,” Tony said. 

“Coming from you, Mr. Stark, that’s quite the compliment.”

“I meant it as one,” Tony said, his voice softening. “I started therapy when I got out of the cave, did I tell you that? It was Pepper’s condition on letting me back in the workshop and fucking Jarvis ganged on up me too, anyway, it’s not terrible, and one of the first things my therapist made me realize was that I was smarter than my dad.”

“Tony, you have a higher IQ than Einstein.”

Tony waved his hand and made a face. “Irrelevant. Howard hated that I was, that’s what is relevant, and he took it out on me. Whenever I hear you say Peter is smarter than you, something twitches in me, and so I want you to hear me say that you’re fucking brilliant and so is your kid. He is brilliant at circuits, but I know with your careful parenting, he’ll be brilliant at people, too, and achieve things I never could dream of, being the emotionally arrested specimen that I am. So let’s stop the ‘Aw shucks, mister, I’m just an ordinary fella’ routine you have down pat. It’s you and me, Steve, own your fucking brilliance.”

Steve sat in silence for a few minutes before he looked at Tony. “I lost points whenever someone thought I was trying to be smart. In the polls. It got easier to pass ideas off as my advisors' – saying that I have a really great team around me isn’t wrong and I’m better because of them, but my presidency is a team effort that I am still a part of, but we don’t talk about my brain. Nat says people are allowed in America to be good looking or smart. Be both and you’re in trouble. We can’t fix my face, so we hid my brain.”

“I hate politics,” Tony said. “I am both gorgeous and brilliant, so I clearly can’t run for office.”

“Your 20s are also why you can’t.”

“Oh, Stevo, let me tell you how much America loves a comeback. If I wanted, I’d run and I’d win, but I’d be terrible so let’s not even. But hey, when it’s you and me, I want to see your brain.”

Steve blinked a few times. “It’s still not as fast as yours.”

“If you can help me slow mine down, Pepper would appreciate it,” Tony smiled. “I haven’t had a moment’s peace that wasn’t chemically arranged since… the womb? I’m not sure. Anyway, I get a feeling you’re hiding a light under a bushel, pal, so let’s go. What’s the thing that excites you the most about art right now?”

Steve grinned so hard that his face nearly split, and Tony fell all the way in love with him right then. “There’s this artist cooperative in Ireland that I’ve been following for years…”

And he was off and running. Steve told stories and drew sketches and Tony asked questions and wrote coding language for a program Steve said might be helpful for under-resourced schools and before either of them knew it, Nat was in the kitchen asking about breakfast coffee. 

“You’ve been up all night?” Nat raised a brow. 

“Steve was catching me up on all the most exciting things in the art world,” Tony said, stifling a yawn. “But now I’m gonna catch a cat nap before Spiderboy awes me with his brilliance.” Flipping a salute at Steve and a nod at Nat, he headed for his bedroom. 

“Don’t Natasha,” Steve said softly. 

“I’m not,” she said. “I just don’t believe that ‘exciting’ and ‘art world’ belong in the same sentence and I’m really glad you’ve found someone else who does.”

He glared at her. 

“Peggy would love him, friend or partner, she’d fucking adore that man,” she said softly, kissing the top of his forehead. “Now, what do you want on your pancakes? I’m making chocolate chip and banana walnut.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll get the whole story of Peggy and Steve, I promise, and how it will affect Steve and Tony. I know I'm doing it piecemeal but it's for a reason! 
> 
> The feedback I'm getting on this tale is an absolute delight. This is only my second story in the MCU and my first AU in nearly a decade so I'm so thrilled it's connecting with folks. I treasure every single kudos, comment, subscription, and bookmark, so thank you, thank you, thank you.


	8. Chapter 8

“Tony,” Pepper’s voice rang through the workshop. “MSNBC. Now.”

Tony froze. “Jarvis, screen on.”

_Approximately four hours ago, seventeen hostages were taken at the American Embassy in Bogota, Colombia by the terrorist group El Chapaquino. The group is demanding the immediate release of fourteen prisoners from various U.S. prisons, as well as threatening the President’s son. President Rogers is scheduled to speak to the press in approximately ten minutes, so-_

Tony fumbled for his phone so hard that it fell from his hands at first, before he realized that it was just that his hands were shaking. “Jarvis, message to Steve, secure line.”

“Yes, sir?”

“The suit is nearly ready. I’ll take care of this. Don’t negotiate. Send.”

“Sent, sir.” 

Tony took a few deep breaths and then asked to be connected to Pepper. 

“Are you going to be stupid and try to fix this?” Pepper said. 

“I’m going to be brilliant and try to fix this, Virginia,” Tony corrected. “They threatened Peter. They simply have to die.”

“Anthony, that is-“

She was interrupted by Jarvis. “Incoming text from the President, sir.”

“Read it.”

“ _LOL NO_.”

“Well, that’s rude,” Tony grumbled as Pepper chuckled. 

“Also, are you ready for the board meeting?”

“What board meeting?” Tony went back to working. 

“The one tomorrow you forgot to tell me about.”

“Nooooo,” Tony said slowly. “The one tomorrow you forgot to tell me about because this is literally the first I’m hearing of it.”

There was silence on Pepper’s end of the connection for several beats. “Obie called it.”

“Well, that’s also rude,” Tony retorted. “Rudeness left, right, and center today, forgetting to tell me he called a meeting of my own board. So, no, Pepper, not ready, can you dig-“

“On it,” she interrupted. “I’ll let you know what I know when I know.”

“You remain the light of my life and the song in my heart,” Tony responded. 

“Sure. Will that be all, Mr. Stark?”

“That will be all, Ms. Potts.”

_________________________

_Steve: Telephoto lens pictures of him and his friend Ned at school._

_Tony: I think I feel sick._

_Steve: I broke a weight bag in the gym the morning after they told me._

_Tony: So how long have you known?_

_Steve: They demanded Peter two days ago, saying that if we released the prisoners, they wouldn’t have to take more drastic actions. So we got him and Ned to a safe house immediately, but I can’t keep them there much longer._

_Tony: Send him here._

_Steve: Tony…_

_Tony: I have the most secure building on the planet, including all your precious safe houses, which ask Peter how he likes Pittsburgh, by the way, so send him here. The Ned kid sounds like a pain in the ass, but I can deal._

_Steve: If you promise to not fly to Colombia, I will send him._

_Tony: *dots appear and disappear three times*_

_Steve: You fucking did already, didn’t you._

_Tony: *dots appear and disappear four times*_

_Steve: ANTHONY EDWARD DID YOU FLY TO BOGOTA IN YOUR STUPID SUIT ANSWER YOUR PRESIDENT RIGHT NOW._

_Tony: I will answer MY FRIEND STEVE that I flew there to try to get some facial recognition pictures in my very wonderful iron suit to PROTECT HIS KID and that Jarvis is running them now. I don’t have the guns fully operational on the suit yet, Chief. Calm down._

_Steve: Why do I feel like being your friend is really what is going to kill me? Not some white supremacist assassin who hates that my VP is black. You and your shenanigans are going to be the death of me._

_Tony: It’s all part and parcel of the friendship service, buddy. So, Peter, here? Tomorrow? Fury and Jarvis can work out the cloaking necessary to get him here._

_Steve: No more Bogota trips, Iron Man, and get those pictures to Nancy and Carol ASAP._

_Tony: Already on it, sweet cheeks._

_________________________

“Day 10,” Steve whined to Bucky. “Are we sure this national policy of not negotiating with terrorists is our best bet?”

“It’s largely been in place since Washington had his original teeth, so I’m not sure we want to reverse this precedent just because you miss your kid,” Bucky replied sardonically. 

They were in the Residence, and Steve had just finished his nightly hologram call with Peter. He was, of course, having the time of his life, as was Ned, but they were both ready to come back home.

“Who’s with the kids when Tony comes tomorrow for the meeting?”

“Pepper’s assistant, May Parker.”

“Tony’s assistant has an assistant?”

“My guess is that May does all the things an actual President’s assistant should do, while Pepper manages Tony,” Steve confessed. 

Tony was back at the White House tomorrow for a follow-up on the summit. There was some actual work that needed to get done, but they were also doing a dog-and-pony show for the press. Bucky thought that if anyone was putting two and two together and realizing that Peter was with Tony, having Tony and Pepper in D.C. might help dissuade them of that notion. 

“Where’s Nancy on the rescue?” Bucky asked. 

“She says she needs a little bit longer with the Brazilians, who we need to get the Venezuelans to the table, but they’re the only way the Colombian government gives us any support because this particular gang is the scariest thing since Pablo,” Steve sighed. “I can’t give you more than that.”

Bucky held up his hand. “I’m the one that decided my security clearance, remember? I don’t want to be in the weeds, I trust you and Nat to tell me the lay of the land when it’s safe to broadcast it.”

Steve nodded. “I told her to take an Ambien tonight or I’d fire her. I don’t think she’s slept since those folks were taken.”

“Proof of life?”

“Arriving every three hours like clockwork,” Steve confirmed. “Carol says these guys are professionals and they know if they kill our folks they lose all leverage. I think they just saw _Argo_ too many times and they think they can get one over on us.”

“That much Affleck is bad for anyone.”

Steve barked out a laugh. “Do you want in on the breakfast tomorrow?”

“Is Lelawala going to be there to hand Tony his ass?”

“Didn’t you hear? She tried to at the summit and he charmed her despite herself. She’s his biggest fan now, especially since he got Gates to pay for a full study of why fiber optics can’t be laid in North Dakota reservations and to come up with a solution.”

“Oh Jesus, is there anyone in this office that doesn’t want to fuck Stark?”

“Probably just you and Nat.”

“Then just me,” Bucky confirmed. 

Steve nodded. “Boobs, right?”

“Stevie, your wife had the best pair, so I understand being ruined for all time, but I have too many more to explore. Being an ass man, you wouldn’t understand.”

“And Stark’s ass…”

“So we’re just openly discussing this now?” Bucky said. 

Steve colored slightly. “Yeah, I guess. Just you and me, though, and that’s okay, right? Since Thanksgiving you seem to like him better. Still not ready to come out.”

Bucky was quiet for a minute. “I do, and I told him that, too. I think he’s a good friend to you and a perfect mentor to Peter and I’m happy to be wrong about who I thought he was. But, you let me know the second you are, okay, Stevie? And I’ll paint myself in a rainbow and write the fucking speech myself.”

Steve smiled. “I know, pal.”

“End of the line.”

“End of the line.”

_________________________

“Don’t rush to thank me,” Tony said the next morning, when he arrived at the White House.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

Tony huffed. “But I got them all free!”

“The NSA is _eternally grateful_ for the help Jarvis provided in identifying the leader of the group, especially because this means Nancy doesn’t owe a favor to the Brazilian ambassador, but that is as far as we’re willing to go, especially because I notice you didn’t come with Peter in tow.”

Tony smirked. “Well, I called Fury this morning and asked if they cleared Peter to leave the tower and I was told no, so really, I’m just being an incredibly responsible citizen, Mr. President.”

“Fine, fine,” Steve grumbled. He looked over his shoulder at Wanda. “Can you clarify with Agent Fury when my son is coming home?” She nodded and scurried out of the room. 

“She’s a little skittish, that one,” Tony observed, and Steve laughed. “Hey, did you notice what we exchanged for the release of the hostages?”

Steve’s jaw ticked, ever so slightly. “It was not an exchange because we do not negotiate with terrorists, but yes, I noticed a very generous donation from Stark Industries of a hydro-electric damn for a small village outside of Cartagena which coincided with the timing of the release of seventeen U.S. citizens and was facilitated, by what I can tell, by the Colombian government and I don't even want to know how many more heads of state around the world owe you favors.”

“So, I’d say that’s one point in favor of my plan,” Tony smirked. “I gave them a dam, you didn’t have to send any SEALs in, everyone is alive, and a village gets water.”

“It’s not usually that easy,” Steve said. 

Tony shrugged, “Probably not. But my guess is that it’s that easy more often than you think. Tell you what, let’s make a bet.”

“A bet?”

“Yeah, a bet. When do you announce your next budget, State of the Union?”

“Priorities, yes.”

“Okay, that’s….” Tony moved his fingers in the air like he was counting, “70ish days away?”

“74.”

“74, right, so in the next 74 days, you work your magic and convince people to prioritize your spending package and I’ll do the same. Whoever has the most votes, you announce it as your administration priority,” Tony said. 

“You think I’m going to re-write our agenda over a bet?” Steve scoffed. 

“I think you’re going to re-write your agenda when I prove to you that we can not only get 20% off the floor, but a whole lot more,” Tony smirked. “Come on, Mr. President, you’re so convinced you’re right, this should be a walk in the park for you.”

“When I win, you have to publicly endorse me.”

Tony paused for a minute. “You got a deal, Captain America.”

The two men shook on it, both ignoring the slight electricity that passed through their palms as Steve smiled, “Game on, Iron Man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation: The State of the Union is given early each year - the President is invited by Congress to update them on the goings on of America. It's a Big Deal. 
> 
> Totally made up the terrorist group, but anyone who is as powerful as Pablo Escobar was is certainly to be feared. 
> 
> Comments (and subs, bookmarks, kudos) give me the warm fuzzies, so thank you so much for all of your kindness so far!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank radicallyred for pointing out that I kept forgetting to mention that Steve and Peter have Secret Service agents who go _everywhere_ with them. One of those things my brain kept filling in, but I forgot you all don't live in my brain! So when Peter was with Tony for that bit? He had agents. Peter's main agent is Maria Hill - she sounds familiar, eh? - and she works with a regular team who rotates through. You'll spend more time with them in the coming chapters. The boys each have code names, too, and you'll learn them as well!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, as always, and please let me know what you think!

_Pepper: I’m organizing Christmas gifts and I want to get some for Maria and Gbozi, but I don’t know protocols. Are agents allowed to accept gifts?_

_Nat: Personal gifts, yes, they have to file some paperwork, so pull in Tony’s most extravagant notions._

_Pepper: Please, I’m the only one he buys gifts for anymore. He freaks everyone else the fuck out. I take care of everything else._

_Pepper: Also, any ideas for Steve and Bucky?_

_Nat: I get them gift certificates so I’m the wrong girl. I’ll send you the contacts for their assistants. Tony?_

_Pepper: Me, him, and Rhodey have had a rule that it has to be homemade – either you make it or you hire a craftsperson to. It’s the only way to gift give to a billionaire. I’ll send you some Etsy links._

_Nat: Perfect. Can I steal that? We have a rule with Peter – something he wears, something he needs, something he wants, and something he reads. Peggy set it up when he was born – so I don’t know what you’ve gotten him, but I can share the Google Doc we use to brainstorm._

_Pepper: Ooooo, that would be perfect. Tony has an idea he’s going to talk to Steve about, but I could run with that._

_Nat: I sent May invitations for you and Tony to do the White House Christmas party, but there’s so many other things this month. Just assume you two have a standing invitation to whatever you can make it to._

_Pepper: I was about to send you guys the ones for the SI parties and same._

_Pepper: Should we just make plans for Christmas since the boys are going to forget? Steve's social secretary blocks off 12/25-1/1 for him to schedule personally, which usually means I do it._

_Pepper: Tony usually spends the entire day in the workshop, emerges for a brief gift exchange around 6, and then I don’t see him again until New Year’s._

_Nat: Well, that sounds fucking depressing._

_Pepper: I get a lot of work done._

_Nat: Pepper, I work with the national ambassadors for workaholism and I’m telling you that’s fucking depressing. Steve and Peter go to England the 25th-28th and then when they get back, we all end up at Steve’s until the 1st and try really hard to be family and not staff. Peter usually makes sure we stay on track. So, could you drag Tony away on the 28th?_

_Pepper: He gets an opportunity to make fun of Bucky, be with Peter, flirt with Steve, and avoid you for three whole days? I’ll bring the crab dip._

_Nat: Yeah, what is his drama with me?_

_Pepper: *eyeroll emoji* he is scared of you. Legitimately._

_Nat: I’m a teddy bear._

_Pepper: *snort*_

_Pepper: Steve said you once temporarily crippled him by pinching him._

_Nat: He deserved it._

_Pepper: Tony always deserves it._

_Nat: Fair, maybe he should be afraid of me._

_________________________

“Senator Fitzpatrick, I’m sending you a few data points right now,” Tony hit a few buttons on his phone as he signed off the call with the Junior Senator from Washington. It was ten days into the bet he and Steve had made and Tony had quickly rounded up his friends in Congress to see exactly how many votes he needed to win the bet. 24 Senate votes and 127 in the House.

Child’s play.

_________________________

“Hey, punk,” Bucky leaned on Steve’s office door one Wednesday night in the middle of December.

“Jerk,” Steve said without lifting his head. 

“He’s got all the Senate votes he needs.”

Steve dropped his pen and looked at Bucky. “All of them.”

Bucky nodded. “The House is going to be more of a problem, but Stevie, Pepper wasn’t wrong that you waved a red rag to a bull.”

Steve waved him off. “We’ll be fine. I’m having lunch with Realmuto tomorrow and he always whips up the base, we’ll be fine.”

Bucky shuffled his feet, “I need you to prepare yourself that we might not be.”

Steve stared at him. “We’ll be fine, Buck.” His tone was even, but Bucky knew the threat behind it. “I have to deal with Colombia in 10 minutes, do you have anything else, Mr. Barnes?”

“No, Mr. President, that will be all,” Bucky said, retreating slowly.

_________________________

"Jarvis," Pepper called tentatively one evening.

"Yes, Ms. Potts?"

"The P&L for the Vancouver office for October... can you re-run the numbers? I think something is wrong."

"Of course, ma'am. May I enquire as to what particularly is bothering you?"

Pepper worried her bottom lip. "Well, they're claiming an entire product line in their budget that we don't actually bill through Vancouver, we bill through Sao Paulo. Tony moved it last year when the Canadians passed that thing?"

"It was moved back," Jarvis said slowly after a few moments. 

"Well, the equipment wasn't. Tony and I were in Sao Palo just before Thanksgiving."

"This is quite puzzling, Ms. Potts."

"Who authorized the move?"

"Mr. Stark."

"Bullshit."

"Indeed, madam."

Pepper sighed deeply. "Jarvis, can you find me some recommended forensic accountants? If the normal team didn't catch this then we have a problem. And patch me through to Tony?"

"Presently, madam."

Pepper pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose. _Something did not add up here._

"Pepper, I'm in the car on the way to the White House."

"I know, this will take two seconds, I just need to double check that you haven't been meddling with the Sao Paolo plant."

"Pep, I know I forget to tell you shit when I drink, but I also lose my Portuguese when I do, so the answer is definitely no."

"Fuck."

"What's up?"

"You authorized the billing for the Mark 5 reactor project to move back to Vancouver. I'm assuming the equipment is still in Sao Paolo?"

Tony was quiet for a few seconds. "I just saw the numbers for Sao Paolo, like, two days ago. J, am I hallucinating again?"

Jarvis interrupted their call. "Sir and Ms. Potts, I can confirm that the project is being billed through both offices."

"Well it certainly sucks to fire someone before Christmas," Tony bemoaned, "but that's a $10 million fuck up."

"Pause for a minute," Pepper said. "Whoever did this had access to your authorization override codes. That's a really, _really_ small list."

"Or we got hacked, which we did not, so small list," Tony mused from his end of the connection. "Okay, we're pulling in. Let me get through security and I'll call you back."

"Nah, go have a good dinner with Steve and Peter. I know you're dying to see Peter's progress on the arm. I'll keep digging on this end. Just come see me tomorrow before I lose you to the workshop again."

"You remain the light of my life and the pep in my step," Tony signed off. 

"Actually," Pepper mused to her empty office. "I think the two men you're with now have that honor, but I'll continue to take the compliment."

_________________________

“Eh, once I got Fitzpatrick, that got me Zimmern, Harper, and Rollins,” Tony said later that evening as he and Steve sat in the living room.

‘’Zimmern is a cock,” Steve muttered into his beer bottle. 

Tony coughed out a laugh. “Noted.”

It was December 15th, and Tony had been in D.C. for a few days, glad handing and schmoozing. Word had gotten around town that Stark was whipping up support for his Green Tech Future proposal. He’d been sending statistics and explaining tech and casting visions and bringing partnerships Calling his proposal a draft – a point to start negotiations – he attacked Washington with the single-mindedness of a CEO and the energy of his famed workshop marathons… and even though Steve would never say this out loud, he knew he was going to lose the bet. 

Tony was doing everything right to get Steve to focus the last year of his (hopefully first) term and to have to build his re-election campaign on the GTF. All of Steve’s team was working hard to get votes for their military spending package, but more and more phone calls included conversations asking why they couldn’t amend the spending package to include some of Stark’s ideas. 

The week he was taking off at Christmas could come as soon as it pleased. 

“Did you get briefed that we’re making TMZ?” Tony continued. 

Steve cocked an eyebrow. “TMZ is interested in the debate around just war theory and sustainable energy?”

“Steven, I am in charge of sarcasm in this friendship, you are in charge of brute strength and looking pretty.”

“God, how could I forget my place. Carry on.”

“Evidently, it has been noticed that we’re friends.”

“Well, I remain thankful that TMZ is constantly vigilant regarding the friendships of grown men.”

“Your new press secretary –“

“Aaron-“

“-his assistant called May today and let SI know that the White House does not comment on your personal life and asked that we consider doing the same.”

“How did May respond?

“That SI only comments on my personal life when I crash press conferences and do it myself,” Tony smirked. “You guys want silence, we’ll give it to you.”

“It’s the best way to protect Peter,” Steve said quietly. 

“I get it, buddy, you made the sale, you can stop the pitch,” Tony said. 

“I don’t… I don’t want you to think I’m ashamed of you,” Steve said, his ears turning slightly red and Tony ignored his body’s reaction to Steve’s charming embarrassment. 

“How could I possibly think that?” Tony said, his tone light. “I am essentially the coolest dude on the planet, according to your son, there is literally nothing for you to be embarrassed about, especially if you ignore the fact that I spent about 20 years sloppily embarrassing myself while enjoying the fruits of the labor of my family, which was state sanctioned murder, so really, I guess I should be glad I inherited Howard’s taste for scotch and not his one for blood.”

“Why do you do that?” Steve asked. 

“Do what?”

“You talk a lot about ‘who you were’, but you always do it glibly like that. I know you hated who you were before the cave, even then, but you say more now that you realize what you were running from. Is how you talk about it your way of coping or something?”

“Well, Dr. Rogers, I hadn’t realized we were in therapy,” Tony snarked, but the tone was teasing and not biting. 

“I just… I just worry, okay?” Steve blurted. 

Tony was quiet, so Steve continued. “I know a lot of vets, a lot, and a lot of trauma survivors. We talk a lot like the first traumatic thing in your life was the cave, but it wasn’t. You’ve been dealing with shitty things since you were born, and I just worry that you’re so good at hiding everything from everyone that you’ve convinced yourself you’re only worth making fun of.

“You are one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met, Tony, and I’m sad you don’t seem to see yourself the way that Pepper, and Rhodey, and Peter, and even Nat and Bucky, and I do. So, yeah, I just worry.”

Tony was quiet for a few more seconds before he met Steve’s eyes. “Cap, you are too fucking much, you know that? You’re also a fucking mother hen, so knock off the worrying, eh?”

Steve shrugged. “Nah, don’t think I will.”

Tony rolled his eyes to the sound of Steve’s soft chuckle and the two men sat in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. 

_I have to do it soon_ , Steve was thinking. _If I wait much longer to tell him this part of me and how I feel…_

_I don’t know how to do this_ , Tony was thinking. _I don’t know how to be friends with someone I’m… falling for? Is that what this feeling of constantly nauseated joy is?_

Tony checked his watch. “Holy fuck, it’s 2am. I have got to get a car.”

“Tony, I have something like fifteen spare bedrooms here. Just crash in one of them.”

“Are you sure?”

“The one to the right of Peter’s is Nat’s usual, so I know the sheets are freshly changed in there – she crashed last week,” Steve stretched as he got up and Tony was forced to not swallow his tongue. 

_Falling with a super healthy side dose of ‘I need to touch him now’. I am pathetic._


	10. Chapter 10

“Mr. Stark! Oh my gosh! Do you see Mrs. Anderson! It’s Mr. Stark!” Peter babbled excitedly the next morning. 

The housekeeper smiled gently at the boy. “I see that, Master Peter.”

Tony smiled behind his coffee mug. “Morning, kiddo.”

Breakfast was … perfect, as far as Tony was concerned. Steve wasn’t there – he only rarely got to eat breakfast with Peter – but Peter was full of chat about all of the upcoming holiday activities there would be at school and would Mr. Stark think about helping him build a hologram feature into the newest robot so that he could project movies for his class and when could he come back to New York and see DUM-E?

“You know what, kid,” Tony said as he got ready to leave. “That’s a great question. Have your people call my people and we’ll work it out.”

“I don’t have people,” Peter rolled his eyes. “I’m 12.”

Tony gestured to the various members of staff around him and Peter giggled. “They’re not my people, they’re Dad’s people.”

“Oh, I assure you Master Peter,” Erin smiled, “we are very much your people.”

Peter hid a grin at that as he finished the last bit of his oatmeal and declared himself ready for school. Erin helped him through the rest of the routine and they were just about out the door before he impulsively ran back to give Tony a hug. 

“I like it when you’re here, Mr. Stark,” Peter mumbled into Tony’s sternum. 

Tony found his hand reaching up to cup the top of the boy’s head. “I like being here,” he replied, surprising himself with the honesty.

Peter beamed as they parted and he waved at Tony as he disappeared from view.

_________________________

_@TMZ: The StarkJet was supposed to leave D.C. at 9pm. It’s still there and it’s 8am._

_@SarahSeyz: Rumors are flying that our favorite Green God stayed at Prez’s last night. More than a friendship?_

_@FoxNews: Sources confirm that there was an unexpected visitor in the White House last night. Tune into Fox and Friends to find out who!_

_________________________

“JESUS CHRIST WHO IS THE LEAK,” Bucky yelled at Darcy and Scott, who visibly jumped at his tone.

“James,” Nat said quietly, “I believe you have taken leave of your professionalism.”

Bucky took a deep breath. “Right, sorry. No yelling, but that’s the fourth time in so many weeks that something from the Residence made it to TMZ and I need to know who the leak is. Fury confirms its none of his guys, so Scott, can you work with Nat’s folks to go through housekeeping?”

“Aaron is going to want to know what to say,” Darcy said. 

“The White House does not comment on the President’s personal life,” Bucky said. 

“Barnes, I get it,” Scott said. “And that’s been fine before with Peter and even you and Nat, but this is Tony Stark and he is very clearly and publicly, you know, Tony Stark.”

“Thank you, Lang,” Bucky said sarcastically. “I’ve only met the man a few hundred times.” He ran his hand over his face. “Listen, he and the President have become really good friends and so for as long as we are in this house, this is going to be a thing. It’s going to be a thing on the campaign trail, a thing at probably every press conference, and a thing with most interviews. Until we are ordered differently by our boss, the party line is that the White House does not comment on the President’s personal life.”

The door flew open and an aide walked in. “Sorry, everyone, but Fox has art.”

_________________________

December was usually Steve’s favorite time to be President. He got to spend lots of time with actual citizens. He got to read storybooks to kindergarteners, and hear amazing musicians come to play in the hallowed halls, and everyone just felt a bit lighter. Until this year, however.

After weeks of rumors flying that he and Tony were buddy buddy, someone had hacked a security camera near Stark Tower and leaked a photo – grainy as it was – of Pepper, Tony, Steve, and Peter all sitting on the patio of Tony’s penthouse area. Peter was in Tony’s lap, Steve was sitting very close and Pepper was – to her eternal mortification – in a hoodie but was also set far enough apart from the men that it added to the look that Tony and Steve were, well, together. 

The picture was _everywhere_ and if Tony had thought paparazzi were a pain in his ass before, he had been naive. Being linked to the President as a potential ally had been annoying, as a friend had been a pain, but now that half of the world had decided they were sleeping together? Good God in her heaven, Tony had never been so thankful for private jets. 

There was almost no one defending them. LGBTQ activists were furious with Steve that he was holding back on them, environmental activists were furious with Tony because he was sleeping with the enemy, rabid fundamentalists were… well, themselves, homophobia was rife both blatantly and not, and Steve was so sick of it all he could hardly breathe. 

Rumlow, Pierce, and the rest of the brain trust running for their parties’ nomination were screaming about character being the core tenant of the Presidency and if Steve was lying about something as basic as his marriage, how could they trust him to run the country. 

The Family Values Research Council – which Steve would forever maintain had nothing to do with family values and everything to do with idealized heteronormativity with a heaping dash of toxic masculinity wrapped in a false version of Christianity that had little to do with Scripture, none of which he was allowed to say out loud or Bucky would have his hide – was particularly on the attack. It seemed like every single one of Tony’s past life choices were being revisited and tried in the court of public opinion. One commentator went so far as to call Tony a sexual deviant who had corrupted the President. 

_“Peter is going to hear that,” Steve groaned into the phone._

_“Well, at least we got ahead of it and I showed him most of the pictures first,” Tony said. When the photo had leaked, Tony and Steve decided to be honest with Peter about all the things people were going to say about his beloved Mr. Stark. Tony’s therapist had been particularly helpful that week._

_“Also, for the four hundredth time, I’m really glad everyone is more interested in my dick than the fact we may have to invade Colombia next week,” Steve moaned._

_“We’re invading Colombia?”_

_“Hyperbole.”_

_“Steven, you cannot threaten my lifeblood like that.”_

_“You said you haven’t done cocaine since the 90s, Tony.”_

_“Coffee, you idiot. If you invade Colombia, can you give me time to get a decent harvest first?”_

_“Do you actually own coffee fields?”_

_“Please, Steve, it’s like you don’t even know me.”_

Much later, when he looked back, Steve would say his full tipping point was December 19th, at 7pm, when Peter asked him if he and Mr. Stark were dating. 

“I mean, I just wanted you to know that I don’t care if you do, if you think I’m going to wig out or something because he’s a dude, I won’t, like, it’s 2023 and I’m not a child, I know what bisexuality is, I have like seven friends who are, so whatever, I’m just saying if he makes you happy, then I’m happy, not that I have any idea if you feel that way, but I know you haven’t been on a single date since Mom died and Mr. Stark is here a lot, I mean a lot a lot, and so yeah, that’s all.” And with that, Peter kissed his dad on the cheek and headed off to his workshop to tinker with the latest collaboration he had going with Tony. 

Steve let Erin know he was going for a walk and headed out for a long dander through the halls of his gilded cage. “Brooklyn is on the move” whispered behind him as he passed agents and Marines and various other staffers, who he greeted as though his soul wasn’t being ripped apart and put back together at the same time. 

He listened to the rhythms of the life around him – some offices were dormant for the night and others were still full of buzz. He tried as hard as he could to keep to quieter areas so that no one would have to stop their work to stand at attention, but he quickly realized he was heading towards the East Wing. 

Before Steve, the last President to not have a wife while serving was Woodrow Wilson, whose first wife died in 1914. He remarried while in office to a woman named Edith Galt just before he was re-elected in 1916. Over the past several weeks, Steve had found himself reading a lot about Wilson. 

There wasn’t really a precedent for having no First Lady in the modern Presidency. Historically, Presidents who hadn’t had wives had sisters or even daughters to serve as White House Hostess, or whatever they called them in that administration. Steve had… no one. Plus, when he was elected he was so deep in grief that there was no way anyone wanted to stress him out by asking him to replace his wife. 

So, for most of Steve’s administration, the Office of the First Lady had become The Office of Social Outreach. Peggy had designed it a bit herself, telling Steve the causes she had planned on championing during their time and helping him identify some experts who could run those. The room which was traditionally the First Lady’s private office was kept empty, but the rest of the wing bustled with activity around childhood literacy, gender equity in the workplace, and anti-harassment programs. 

When Steve arrived in the East Wing, only a few staffers were still about. Their office was winding down a bit for the holiday break – an unofficial two weeks where Steve had declared non-essential personnel should be with their families, with allowances to shift the timeframe to whatever holiday or time fit their families. He made his way to the empty office and creaked the door open. 

He sat in the darkness for several minutes, in the chair that would have been hers, and imagined Tony filing this room. Imagined him taking meetings on water purification and crop rotation and off shore drilling. Imagined Peter in here with him, talking about robotics and engine oil and the new Tesla prototype that Tony would claim he could build better but would inevitably buy. He dreamed of popping over here for a quick moment to hug Tony, to rest in an embrace of someone who loved him as a human and not as a boss and didn’t even have to choose between those two. 

While he was an idiot, he wasn’t a complete one and he knew Tony felt _something_ for him. His guess was pure physical lust, but there was maybe, just maybe, something more. 

“Okay, Pegs. I leave for your parents at noon on Christmas. I’ll tell him by then or you can send someone to smite me, okay?”

_________________________

“Steven, this is not going to go away! Peter doesn’t need this!”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t tell me how to raise my kid, Anthony,” Steve growled and poured two fingers of scotch for his friend and two fingers of rum for himself. Splashing ginger beer into his glass and two ice cubes into Tony’s, he sat down on the couch. 

It was December 21st and Tony was down in the city for a final few meetings before Christmas and it was the last time the men would see each other until the 28th when their rag-tag kaleidoscope family would gather in Brooklyn.

“The fucking _Washington Post_ is now asking me for comment. _The Post_ , Steve. This isn’t TMZ or some ridiculous millennial popup in Astoria tweeting at Peter, this is _The Washington Goddamn Post_ , will you please let me make a statement about how I’m got a goddamn child molester.”

Steve leveled him with his eyes. “They’re not saying that, are they?”

Tony sighed dramatically. “No, they’re not. But they are saying he’ll find out who I was quick enough and that you have surrounded him with a whole tribe of upstanding citizens and now me. They’re also saying I’m going to cost you re-election.”

Steve barked out a laugh at that. “I really appreciate how my dead wife got me the first win and my friendship with you will prevent the second. It’s like I’m just window dressing.”

“Very fucking attractive window dressing, though,” Tony winked. 

_Be brave, Rogers. You can do this_. You can trust him. “You think?” Steve whispered. 

Tony paused, as though he noticed the shift in Steve’s tone. Turning towards Steve, he placed his glass on the coffee table. “You’re joking, right? Because of course you are. You are one of the most, fuck Steve, yes. You know my persuasions, I believe, and yes. Yes you are. I promise I won’t ever do anything about it, if that’s what we’re getting at here, because I never fuck with cis or hetero folks, it’s just not nice, and Pepper would schedule some sort of surgery to remove my prostate as punishment if I did, and I really love your kid, and I really like spending time with you, so rest assured, this big bi dick will keep it to himself.”

Steve blinked a few times and Tony went back to his drink. The room was quiet for a few beats. 

“I’m gay, Tony.” 

The room was quiet for a few more beats. 

“Did you hear me?”

More quiet. 

“Tony.”

“I’m sorry, I think I’ve actually died. Did you say you were gay? You, the man who is so perfectly, stereotypically, American male that they literally call you Captain America. That is not possible. Especially because you ran for President as an openly straight married man.”

“Yeah, about that,” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “Let me start at the beginning, because I’m somewhere outside the gay mark on the spectrum, but not all the way to bi.”

“Please,” Tony said, with a tone in his voice Steve couldn’t quite identify. 

“Peggy and I met in 2002, just after I was promoted to Captain, and I was instantly smitten with her. She had this… energy, this sureness about herself that I had never really encountered before and I was a goner. It was odd, I remember thinking, because I had never reacted that strongly to anyone, ever.

“I remember noticing Bucky as he started to fill out and looking at him wasn’t painful, and I remember noticing the same thing about Nat but not liking it as much, and then both of those things were filed away in a lock box, forever.”

Steve took a sip of his drink. “In the middle of 2005, I could tell Peggy was about ready to break up with me. She kept asking me if I was attracted to her, if I wanted her, because she claimed I was always far away when we were having sex and I had no idea what she meant. Sex with her was better than anyone I’d ever been with before, so I was worried there was something wrong with me that I wasn’t fully present. But then, a stick turned pink, and I asked her to marry me, and she shocked me by saying yes.”

“Wow, that is not in your Wikipedia,” Tony said. 

Steve laughed. “No, I think the official statement is that we got engaged, then married, then lost the baby during a torrid love affair that but Burton and Taylor to shame, right?”

“That’s certainly the vibe.”

“Yeah, and it’s bullshit. Well, maybe not at the beginning, but when we lost that baby – we named her Sylvia – everything tasted like ash for a long time. I finished college, went to work, and every time I felt like crying, I wrote a paper or ran a mile.”

“The male-attracted humans of Earth thank you for your less than stellar coping mechanisms,” Tony commented. 

Steve smiled lazily, his ears turning a charming shade of crimson. “So, right, everything was pretty awful for about three years. There were days where we were literally only staying married so that Peggy could get her citizenship, that is how bad it was. We tried therapy, but could never find one that worked, and then 2010 hit and I realized that the reason I couldn’t stop looking at Bucky’s ass was that I was pretty into dudes.”

“Are you into Bucky?”

“Jesus, no, his was just the most available ass to ogle,” Steve laughed. “Even when I was my most confused, I knew that my love for Bucky was not in that sector of love. It was… family. He’s always been my family. Him and Nat. In the sibling way, so no, no, no-“

Tony held up his finger to Steve’s lips. “You’re rambling, sugarplum, but I get you. His ass is a goddamn work of art and if was attached to a man who would let me, I’d bite it like a peach. Continue.”

“I was throwing up all the time, I felt like my skin was the only thing keeping me from going everywhere at once, I wanted to die, Tony, I just couldn’t even look Peggy in the eye, until finally she cornered me and told me either I told her what was making me throw up so much or she was giving up citizenship and moving back to England. So I told her I thought I thought maybe I was gay and her response was that she knew.”

Tony threw his head back and laughed. “From everything you have said about your wife, of course she did.”

Steve smiled. “My jaw fell open and her follow-up question was if I still loved her and I realized that I did, with all of my being, I did, and so I said yes and she smiled and she said that she loved me to, and then she walked into her office and came back with a pile of articles she had been reading about how sexuality was a spectrum and that it was biologically possible for me to love fucking her and crave dick at the same time – direct quote because Pegs was a lady – and it was absolutely possible for us to build a life together as long as I kept choosing her.”

“Jesus Christ, Steven,” Tony swore. “Your girl was…”

“One in twenty million, I know,” Steve said. “Trust me, I know. I mean, you’ve met the kid that is half her, so really that shouldn’t surprise you.

“Anyway, that led to a whole lot more discussions and some therapy that really worked and a lot of commitments and by the time that she was pregnant with Peter we were really, really good. The decision for me to come out wasn’t even a discussion until she got her diagnosis, actually.”

“Yeah?”

Steve nodded and worried his lip. “She spent her last few weeks telling me all about how she was going to spend her afterlife picking out the perfect love for me, someone to carry me and Peter into the next chapters, and she was going to make sure he’d have the right genitalia – because by then I called my sexuality “Gay and Peggy”, which was a real trip when _Hamilton_ came out, because no other woman will ever, ever hold a candle to my Margaret, and she made me promise that when the time was right I’d come out, to help be an example.

“She made me promise I wouldn’t keep this part of me from our kid, that I wouldn’t keep this part of me from the citizens I love so much, but I haven’t seen much need to. Coming out seemed like such a faff… I gotta move, let’s take a walk.”

Tony, used to abrupt subject changes in his own head, nodded. 

“Want the ten cent tour?” Steve asked, standing and holding out his hand to Tony, who quietly took it and wound their fingers together. 

They walked down the hallway, stopping in several rooms where Steve told Tony all sorts of White House trivia and shared memories of Peter, until they ended up in a room full of dishes. 

“This,” Steve said, “is the China Room, which to me is the most heteronormative room in the fucking house because it’s all the china patterns the wives have been forced to pick to represent their husbands’ administrations, but Peter and I just call it the dish room.”

Tony smirked. “So, the first First Dude gets to do what, pick out beer cozies?”

Steve shuffled his feet. “Maybe I’ll have to find out,” he said with a knowing glance at Tony, which was all the confirmation Tony needed to absolutely _launch_ himself at Steve. 

Tongues, teeth, lips, hands – all were cyclones of pent up lust for a _while_ until they heard a throat clearing at the door. They parted – heaving breaths – to see Nat and Kwame – one of Steve’s agents – hovering at the door. 

“Mr. President,” Nat said, with a smirk on her face, “we need you in the Sit Room.”

“Sure, because as soon as I, fucks sake, fine. Kwame, can you help Mr. Stark back to his car?”

“Yes, sir,” Kwame said, with a slight smile on his face. Steve scowled at him, which only made Kwame smile wider, with a warmth that Steve knew meant the man was genuinely thrilled for him. 

“Also, can you two give us a fucking minute – Nat you can set a timer – but please close the door,” Steve said. 

“Yes, Mr. President,” Nat said, closing the door behind her. “90 seconds.”

Tony reached to cup the side of Steve’s face. “We have a lot more to talk about and a lot more to explore, but right now, I can find my own way home, and I would like to say that I have never been happier that the Family Values Council was right about something.”

Steve burst out laughing and kissed Tony quickly before replying. “Well, we don’t need to give them that satisfaction, quite yet, do we? You flying back or can I see you tomorrow?”

“Flying back,” Tony said. “Obie is stressing Pepper out and I promised her I’d look into it.”

“Okay, I’ll call you when I’m in bed.”

“Naked.”

“Well, that’s quite forward, Mr. Stark.”

“I’m old and we have wasted weeks where I could claim the World’s Sexiest Man for myself, so let’s hop to, solider,” Tony waggled his eyebrows. “Agent Kwame, good sir, I am in your capable hands,” he called loudly to signal they were finished. 

As Nat and Steve walked away, he could not wipe the grin off of his face.

“It’s Johnson,” Nat said when Tony was out of earshot. 

“What does that fucking assbag want now?” 

“Someone poisoned his minister of the interior,” Nat said dryly. “And El Chapaquino left a note taking credit.”

Steve was silent. 

“Sir?”

“Yes, I heard you, I’m just really fucking pissed they’re my cockblock, fuck, okay, President mode activated,” Steve said quickly. 

“Steve,” Nat whispered, causing Steve to stop short. 

“Did you just, in this house, did I-“

“I’m really proud of you and I will get you back to him as soon as I can,” Nat whispered before raising her voice again. “Sir, Secretary Danvers and Director Alvarez are waiting for you already, as is Ambassador Smyth.”

“Who is that?”

“Your ambassador to Austria.”

“Oh, so he’s important in this conversation.”

“Certainly enough to learn his name.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for honesty, eh? So what are you thinking? Happy they got together? Worried about the bet? These terrorists are certainly persistent. Tell me!
> 
> Thanks for the comments, kudos, subs, and bookmarks, everyone. They certainly make me type faster and warm my little writer soul.


	11. Chapter 11

_Breaking news. BBC has learned that the Colombian terrorist organization El Chapaquino has taken credit for three high profile poisonings that took place in Bogotá last evening. The Ambassadors to Colombia from Germany, Brazil, and Japan were all attending a performance of an opera in the capital last evening when they suddenly took ill and were rushed to hospital, where they have all been treated for arsenic poisoning and remain in critical condition._

“Ah, so that’s why Steve had to leave,” Tony muttered out loud as he wound a coil around a circuit breaker. “DUM-E, 3/8th or I am going to park you outside in a blizzard I swear, Jarvis can you text Pep and ask her when she’s coming over?”

Tony had gotten back from D.C. a few hours previous and was practically floating on air. Steve hadn’t called until nearly 2am but Tony had been wide awake. 

_“I have a level 3 security clearance, you know,” Tony said._

_“I do, Tony, trust me, that’s why I’m even allowed to have a private phone line with you to begin with, but this is above even that, so you’ll know when I can tell you.”_

_“Which will be?”_

_“Not now,” Steve stifled a yawn. “Maybe tomorrow. Can we please not talk about my really shitty job?”_

_“What would you like to talk about?” Tony said, wiggling his eyebrows even though Steve couldn’t see him._

_“How much I liked the dish room.”_

_Warmth spread through Tony’s body. “I did too, Cap.”_

_“I’d also like to say that I’m pretty fucking pissed I don’t see you for a week now,” Steve confessed. “But I am more afraid of Peggy’s mom than you are of Nat, so I can’t cancel.”_

_“I am not afraid of Nat,” Tony protested._

_Tony heard a sound on the other end of the line that sounded like muffled laughter._

_“I’m not!”_

_“Sure, pal, you just keep telling yourself that,” Steve’s smile came through in his tone._

_“Um, since I’m not the one kind of in the closet, I need to ask who I get to tell and please let it be Pep because I will have no chill whatsoever when I see you next week.”_

_Steve chuckled. “Nat has, I am positive, already told Bucky, and Peter already asked me if I was into you that way, so Pepper is fair game. Rhodey too, if you’d like, but I’d prefer you not to call him on a MilSpec line.”_

_“Platypus hates phone calls when he’s deployed, so he can wait,” Tony said. “Also, along with the zero chill, I am out of fucks to play games, so let me lay this out. I really like you and I’m into monogamy and I’m a good secret keeper, so I know we didn’t say a lot, but I think you were implying you’re in for more than a casual fuck with the koozie comeback, so I am too. Casual fucking could be-“_

_“Anthony, I’m super into you, I’m also into monogamy, but I can’t have this public yet, I just can’t, so if that’s a thing-“_

_“I can work with that, Mr. President,” Tony said, turning his tone husky on the last few words and could hear Steve swallow loudly on the other end._

_“Well that is a kink I didn’t know I had,” Steve said quickly, “and one we will explore but I have another briefing in three hours, so I’m going to be an adult and hang up now.”_

_“Night, Cap, call me whenever you can.”_

_“Sleep well, Iron Man.”_

“Ms. Potts says she will be with you within in the hour and asked me to enquire about dinner.”

“Tell her I’m fine.”

“That is not an answer, sir.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “I ate on the plane.”

“You had a banana,” Jarvis stated blandly. “Seven hours ago.”

“You know, my mom’s been dead for a long time and never had a British accent.”

“Tetchy, are we, sir? Did we not get enough sleep last night?”

Tony scowled and put down the socket wrench. “Fine, fine, whatever. Tell Pep I’ll take a cheeseburger from the place on 12th that does the blue cheese thing.”

“Excellent, sir,” Jarvis said obsequiously. 

“You are a horrible pain in my ass and I hate you,” Tony said. 

“Your affection warms the cockles of my non-existent heart, sir,” Jarvis replied.

_________________________

“So,” Pepper said sometime later around a mouthful of black bean burger. “Sounds like you had a date.”

“I think so?” Tony replied. 

“He’s brilliant, kind, hot as fuck, and into you,” Pepper replied. “There is no downside to this.”

Tony barked out a laugh. “How about being in a secret relationship with the closeted President of the United States? How about having to behave and be discreet which we both know I am terrible at when I get excited about something?”

Pepper shrugged. “You’ll figure it out.”

Tony blinked. “All the accumulated wisdom of being my person for two decades and all you have is that I’ll _figure it out_?”

Pepper grinned. “Yup.”

“Unacceptable.”

“Anthony,” Pepper said gently. “If you’re thinking of futures with him, then I know you’ll be fine. You told me the last person you did that with was me, decided I worked better as sister, and moved on. You’ve slotted Steve into partner and I think he’s the first person you’ve ever done that with. The problems you’re solving are ones that need solving, yes, but I love that you’re even trying! Sure, it’s going to be a pain and it’s not your standard operating procedure and my life just got a thousand times more complicated and I’m wondering if we have to get Secret Service approved bodyguards for you now. 

“But that’s all details. What matters is that you both agreed to figure it out together. If you guys are a team, we’ll work the rest out,” Pepper shrugged. “Your joy is worth it to me.”

Tony smiled. “I have never felt this way about anyone and it is fucking petrifying. It was bad enough when it was just an unrequited crush and it’s only been 24hrs, but it’s like something in me unlocked last night and now I’m… I feel right. Is that weird?”

“Maybe,” Pepper smiled, “but it’s also really beautiful.”

_________________________

“Fucking _finally_ ,” Bucky said to Steve right after the final official senior staff meeting of 2023 as he followed him into the private study. It was 2:30pm on the 23rd of December and Bucky had told his staff to call a full press lid and send everyone home who wanted to go.

“So, so you held your tongue for two entire days?” Steve said to Nat as she closed the door behind the three of them.

“I kept waiting for you to tell him and then I got impatient.”

“I was going to tell you tonight,” Steve said to Bucky. “I swear.”

Bucky waved his hand. “Getting cockblocked by international terrorists is enough to throw anyone off their game. I want to hear all the swoony best friend shit later, but right now we have some logistics.”

Nat nodded briskly. “I’m assuming your relational evolution is on a need-to-know basis still?”

“And will be for the foreseeable future,” Steve responded. 

“Well, Fury and the agents are in that crew right now,” Nat said. “I trust Maria, Kwame, Gibozi, Michael, Sarah, and Zoey to be discreet and open minded, so I’m not concerned, but they deserve a heads up. Kwame has not disclosed to anyone what he saw, including Fury, but he does feel he has to say something before you all head to England tomorrow.”

“Understandable,” Steve said. 

“There is no precedent for a non-married romantic partner regarding protection, but I’ve already spoken to Pepper about getting Tony a bodyguard other than Happy who liaises with the Secret Service and she’ll broach that with Tony for us.”

“He is going to hate that,” Steve muttered. 

“He does not get a vote,” Bucky said. “If I know you at all, anything happens to him and you’ll go nuclear, so he gets protection. You wanna let him off the hook, then you agree to not plead the 25th if something happens to him.”

Steve stared at his best friends for a few beats before he quickly nodded. “I’ll tell Sam first thing in the new year.”

The trio hashed out a few more details before Steve’s intercom went off. 

“ _Sir_?” Joyce Evans, Steve’s chief administrative assistant, said. 

“Yes, Mrs. Evans?”

“ _Erin just rang to say that Peter has arrived home from school with a large bruise and will not tell her about it. She asked for your next ten minutes, and I informed her you didn’t technically have it but that I’d let you know right away.”_

Steve looked at Bucky, who spoke up. “Mrs. Evans, can you call Andrew Granger at State and move him from 4 to 8 and tell him we’ll make sure there’s eggnog?”

“ _Certainly Mr. Barnes_.”

Nat smirked. “Granger is gonna be pissed.”

“Granger is about to get 12-year-old Jamaican rum and I’ll forget the eggnog,” Bucky replied. “Go see our boy, Stevie.”

Steve didn’t need to be told twice and headed straight for the private stairs that led him up to his house. 

“Peter!” Steve called as soon as his foot hit the top step. “PETER BENJAMIN.”

“We’re in his room,” Erin called back and Steve quickly wound his way there, finding Peter on the bed with a bag of frozen peas held against his face and Erin frowning at the boy. 

“Thanks, Erin,” Steve smiled and the girl took her leave. 

“Peter,” Steve began. 

“I’m fine, Dad,” Peter said resolutely. 

“And you felt frozen peas were a good new accessory?”

Peter smiled and then winced. “It’s not a big deal.”

“We literally only have that bag of peas in there for when Bucky forgets to wrap his knuckles before he hits the boxing bag,” Steve said simply. “So unless Bucky accidentally hit your face, I’d like to know why you broke out the injury peas.”

Peter was quiet for a few breaths and Steve made himself comfortable in Peter’s desk chair. 

“Aren’t we going to war with Colombia?” Peter said.

“Not even close and even if we were, I’m not moving, so spill, Spidey.”

A few more breaths went by before Peter mumbled something. 

“What was that, kiddo?”

“Javier Rivera called you a cock sucking fag.”

The breath swept out of Steve before he could blink. “So you hit him?”

“Well, first MJ told him that he said two things that meant the same thing except the second thing made him a bigot –“

Steve fought a smile, “and then his face ran into your fist?”

“And then Javier said that Mr. Stark was a diseased fairy boy and I think I blacked out a bit because the next thing I remember is Maria putting me and MJ in the car.”

“Where is MJ now?”

“Maria had someone take her home once we got here.”

“And Maria is?”

“Waiting for you in the living room, I think,” Peter said. “I told Erin not to call you.”

“Sure, because that was going to happen,” Steve sighed. 

“I made this a big deal, didn’t I?” Peter said quietly. 

Steve was quiet a for a few seconds. “I’m going to call Buck and Nat, okay, and have them come up here and we’ll figure out what to do because yes, I think the President’s son punching out a kid at school over a gay slur is probably already all over everything.”

“And everyone probably thinks I confirmed you and Mr. Stark are together, which I know you’re not –“

Peter trailed off as he saw his dad’s ears turn red – Steve’s ultimate tell.

“Are you and Mr. Stark together?” Peter whispered, his one good eye full of hope. 

“You and I have a lot to talk about, kiddo, and I promise we will, but right now I need to be President.”

Peter smiled. “You are, you are, you are!”

Steve attempted to keep a stern face as best he could but nodded quickly and then pressed a finger to his lips. Peter nodded and zipped his lips shut. 

“Erin,” Steve called, “could you call Dr. Whitman to look at Peter’s eye?”

“Daaaaaaad,” Peter whined. 

“Don’t even start, Peter,” he said as he kissed Peter’s forehead and heaved himself off the bed. He was about to open his mouth to ask someone to page Bucky when the man himself appeared in the doorway. 

“Hey, kiddo, nice right hook, but next time, can we do it where no one has cell phones?”

Peter dramatically flopped back onto his pillow as the two men let out low chuckles.

_________________________

“Did you see it?” Steve asked Tony over the phone many hours later.

“Kid’s got decent form,” Tony chuckled. “How do you respond to shit like this without responding?”

“Bucky has some friends,” Steve responded. “The White House does not comment ever on Peter, but we have some friends who, once they get a few facts, are happy to spin things as their idea.”

“Would not have thought Christine Everhart would be a friend,” Tony mused. 

“Bucky makes friends like you used to,” Steve commented as Tony laughed. “I didn’t see what she said yet, was it Twitter?”

“Went on a whole thing about how it shouldn’t surprise any of us that the son of the man who added an entire LGBTQ division in the VA would rise to silence a bully who was using homophobic slurs. She also said her sources said it wasn’t just you and me, but queer folks in general and I’m guessing that source was MJ or Ned or Barnes.”

Steve sighed. “I actually have no idea, could have just been something she made up. But with Christine on the case of protecting Peter’s character, the story will go away because she’ll bully it into silence.”

“And she has no idea?”

“Even if she does, she’ll keep her mouth shut. We’ve had a mutual back scratching agreement since I was governor and she was at the Times and she’s not going to risk that. She’s the only reporter who isn’t part of the press corps who has Bucky’s direct line.”

“So when do you leave for Jolly Old England?” Tony changed the subject. 

“Wheels up at 1230 on Christmas Day,” Steve sighed. “I get Christmas morning with Peter and then they get him for Boxing Day and then they always take him out by themselves somewhere on the 27th and we fly back on the 28th.”

“That sounds vaguely clinical.”

“Peggy’s dad was the acting head of Interpol for thirty years. His personality was clinically removed in the 70s,” Steve said wryly. “We’ll be fine, we always are, it’s just weird since Peg died. It wasn’t great before then, but she was a buffer.”

“They don’t like you?”

“They fucking hate she married an American,” Steve said, “and they hate even more that she was pregnant when we got married, and they hate that I’m Catholic, but mostly they hate that she’s dead and they have the emotional vulnerability of… well, Upper Class English people, and so they just take it out in passive aggressive comments and tense silences and it’s a goddamn joy, let me tell you.”

“Please, Stevie, tell me how you really feel,” Tony laughed and Steve joined in. “So you’re telling me that the Rogers men will be quite ready for the staycation we’re embarking on.”

“Peter already has a list of projects he wants to work on with you,” Steve commented. 

“And his father?”

“Oh, I have several lists, Mr. Stark,” Steve said with a slight growl. 

“I look forward to executing orders, Mr. President.”

_________________________

“So, Dad told me you guys are dating,” Peter said calmly as Tony helped him spin through a holographic diagram of a water filtration system.

“You cool with that?” Tony said. 

Peter rolled his eyes. “You guys have been making googly eyes at each other for weeks.”

Tony gaped slightly as Peter laughed. “Once I realized Dad might be bi, and the whole planet knows you are, I realized it was pretty cool and you guys would be great for each other. When we were on the plane to Gran and Granda’s, Dad told me about him and Mom and I’m honestly just glad they really loved each other because I was worried he lied to her or she was a beard or something and so I’m glad and I was thinking maybe I could call you Tony now?”

“Kiddo, you can call me whatever you want,” Tony smiled. “But Mr. Stark was really bumming me out.”

“Yeah?”

“My dad was a dick, kid, and every time you called me his name, I just… Let’s just say I’m glad we’ve gotten to Tony. Now, do you see this?” Tony pointed to a joint on the hologram and the two geniuses got back to work as Bucky, Pepper, Nat, and Steve sat in the living room watching reruns of _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ and eating food that was terrible for them, including all the sweets Steve had brought back from England. 

“Come onnnnnnn, Natasha Marie,” Bucky whined. “They’re my favorite, too.”

“It is not my fault you inhaled your Percy Pig ration,” Nat scolded Bucky. The pair were both in love with several gummy candies only found in the U.K. – Marks and Spencer’s Percy Pigs and Haribo Tangfastics. Bucky usually ate all of his Percy’s in one go and then begged Nat for a few of hers as Steve laughed – this routine was repeated every time Steve went to the U.K. or Ireland and it was as comfortable as slipping on a pair of comfortable socks. 

Framily – the portmanteau of ‘friend’ and ‘family’ the trio had been using for decades – Christmas had been a rousing success. Pepper and Tony fit into the group shockingly well and the annual gift exchange was full of cries of “how did you know” and laughter over shared jokes and even a few tears from Pepper at how well her new friends knew her so quickly. 

_“Steven,” Pepper breathed as she rolled open the scroll. He blushed a bit and nodded._

_“It’s from that night,” he whispered._

_“I can tell,” she smiled._

_“Share with the class,” Tony said._

_“He drew us,” Pepper turned the sketch around to show them the drawing Steve had done of Pepper, Tony, and Peter over Thanksgiving weekend. The three were cooking dinner on that Friday and the sketch was in pencil, quickly dashed as though Steve had to capture it before the moment fled. Pepper knew she had been chopping peppers and Peter was making a joke about how she was murdering her own kind and Tony was muttering about the lack of control temp on the left burner of the stove and Steve had sat at the table with a small smile on his face as his hand flew across the paper._

For Pepper, that was the first night she and Steve had become friends. They had stayed up long past either of the inventors and talked about art and childhoods and family and Tony. It was a night Pepper would treasure forever and the fact that Steve knew that was… well, it was beyond words.

Peter got his normal pattern of gifts, but this year had plotted for the five adults as well. Using the 3-D printer in Tony’s main workshop, Peter had designed small statues for each of their desks – collages of stuff he liked to do with each of them, stuff that represented who they were to him. Nat’s was a collage of pies, Bucky’s of the various sports teams they rooted for together, Pepper’s of the artists she had introduced him to, Tony’s of robot bits, and Steve’s was simply a printing of sketch Steve had done of Peggy when she was pregnant with Peter. 

All the adults followed the prescribed Peter gifting pattern, except for Tony, which shocked no one. 

_Peter opened the envelope and sat in silence, eyes flitting between Tony and Steve, both of whom were grinning._

_“Um, hello?” Bucky said. “What’s on the paper?”_

_“Are you serious?” Peter whispered, ignoring Bucky._

_“I ran it by your Dad and your agents and Pepper and they all said we could bunk off for a month,” Tony said._

_Peter leapt up and threw his arms around Tony’s neck. As the man slid his arms back around Peter, Pepper heard him whisper, “only the beginning, kiddo.”_

_“Peter and Tony are doing a world tour of various Stark Industries labs this summer,” Pepper supplied to Nat and Bucky._

_“Perfect way to get him out of the campaign hell,” Nat commented. “Great idea, Tony.”_

_Tony, who had released Peter, preened at the praise. “I’m largely planning on stealing the improvements I’m sure he’ll come up with, so don’t go thinking this is altruistic.”_

_“Wouldn’t dream of it, Stark,” Nat replied, with a small smile on her face._

“I’m off to bed,” Pepper said after the episode finished. “Enjoy your gummified sugar.”

“We will,” Bucky said through a mouthful of foamy bananas – another British specialty – and Pepper smiled as the world spun closer to 2024.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: MilSpec - 'military specification' & Level 3 security clearance is the highest NSA level, but there are discretionary levels within it. 
> 
> I have 15 chapters planned for this one, so not a whole lot longer to go before the end. Hope you keep enjoying and I am honored by all the engagement so far. Comments are the best - I love hearing what is resonating with you - and I'm tickled by each subscription, bookmark, and kudos.


	12. Chapter 12

In hindsight, Tony really should have expected that things would go pear shaped. Everything was a bit too perfect, a bit too wonderful – as though he was Dorothy who had landed in Oz and everything had burst into technicolor. 

For the first time in his life, Tony felt content. Sure, he didn’t love this whole secret boyfriend thing, but he supposed the people who mattered knew and so it wasn’t really a secret, it was more of a privacy thing and that he could appreciate. Being a dadish type person to Peter was making more dreams of his come true than he’d dare to conjure and having these bonus friends in Formerly Scary Spice and Only Occasionally Grumpy Bear wasn’t the worst either. 

It only stood to reason that international terrorists would conspire to ruin it all because that was how life worked when you were Tony Stark – happiness had an expiration date. 

He really just wished he hadn’t learned about it from CN Fucking N. 

The week had started like many weeks previously. Tony was only about 15 votes shy of his promised land and he had created an entire division to serve as a new kind of government contractor. One which, just to be on the paranoid side of careful, Obie had no knowledge of. 

He was, admittedly, getting a little itchy at this ‘no comment’ lifestyle and had brought it up to Steve. 

_“I love you, Steve, I’m sure of it. But I can’t live my life in secret. I love you too much to shove myself back in a closet I was never really in so I’m going to disappear for a while.”_

_“Just let me get through re-election. I don’t want to make my Presidency about my sexuality, please Tony. I love you, too, and I’m sure of it. Let me get reelected and then we’ll tell everyone and if you disappeared on me, I would fucking find you.”_

Then there was the issue that it appeared the new hobby for over privileged middle-aged white people was to declare they were running for President and a whole lot of them were running on the idea that Steve’s character was in question. 

_“I’m not calling President Rogers’ service record into question and it is no doubt he has done great things for the veterans of this country, but perhaps the pressures of the office have gotten to him -“_

_“Are you saying that his friendship with Tony Stark is a lapse in judgement?” The MSNBC pundit looked skeptical but allowed the other man to keep talking._

_“I mean, I question your judgement being with me regularly –“ Tony commented to Steve as they laid in bed, but Steve cut him off with a kiss and soon they drowned out the television._

The new kids on the candidacy block, however, had nothing on Alexander Pierce, who was currently the front runner and had taken the rumors of Tony spending the night in the White House and built an entire homophobic campaign platform out of it. 

_“Now, we all know Tony Stark,” he called out to the crowd gathered in front of him._

_“Oh good, is this where we hear what a degenerate I’m dating?” Steve called to the television one evening as he worked out._

_“Maybe the President missed some of Stark’s greater exploits while he was overseas and we thank him for that service, but it’s troubling that young Mr. Rogers has not paid attention to who his new best friend really is.” The way Pierce said ‘best friend’ left absolutely no doubt as to exactly what he thought the nature of Tony and Steve’s relationship really was._

_“Please, Alex, tell me more!” Steve called._

_“Tony Stark’s lifestyle is not one we want serving as an example to our children-“_

_“Take a shot, we got a lifestyle reference!” There was probably something to be said about the slightly masochistic streak in Steve that he loved yelling back at Pierce during the televised rallies. He continued doing it until Pierce’s famous closing line._

_“My name is Alexander Pierce and I’m running for President.”_

_“Well, thank God you told them, Alex, because that crowd could have easily thought they were at a Pride parade!”_

After a few days in D.C., Tony had returned to New York and his beloved bots for a two-day marathon tinker session. One of the concessions of his new long-distance relationship was that he had to agree to some schedules and some communication protocols. The rule when he was in the workshop was that he was basically on a coms blackout with a few key exceptions. Jarvis and the Secret Service had an agreed upon passcode where they could connect directly into each other in the case of an emergency. Additionally, he had to promise to eat one full meal per day – Steve’s condition – and talk to both Steve and Peter once per day. He also had to give Pepper one hour over breakfast to sign paperwork. 

He would admit this only under penalty of death – but he was discovering that boundaries were good. Until Friday morning, when he was abruptly reminded he was dating the President of the United States. 

“Sir,” Jarvis interrupted. “Ms. Potts is being particularly insistent.”

“Fine, Jarvis, what is –“

“Anthony, they bombed Ft. Hood,” Pepper’s voice rang out. “El Chapawhatever, they bombed Ft. Hood.”

“Jarvis, why don’t we have anything from the Service?” Tony asked, his tools abandoned.

“I am attempting to contact the White House presently, Sir.”

“Fuck this,” Tony pulled out his own phone and texted Bucky. 

_Tony: What the fuck is happening._

_Barnes: Steve and Nat are in the Sit Room with the Joint Chiefs. Do not come here._

_Tony: Fuck you, Barnes._

_Barnes: No, I’m serious. The next time you see him will be in a national address tonight. The last time someone bombed a military base on U.S. territory was Pearl fucking Harbor, Stark. He is not your boyfriend right now, he is not my best friend, he is POTUS and days like this fuck with him so hard._

_Tony: Then he needs me!_

_Barnes: I’m telling you to stand down._

The exchange went back and forth like that for a while before Tony threw his phone across the room.

_________________________

“James,” Bucky’s assistant buzzed his phone. “Nat needs you and Darcy immediately in the Oval.”

 _Game time_. Bucky had been going over and over all the options he figured would be happening – not only politically, but he knew Steve was about to catapult Tony over a line the men might not come back from. 

When Bucky and Darcy entered, Nat got right down to business. 

“The President is finalizing some last minute details, but we wanted to give the two of you as much time as possible for messaging. We have located one of El Chapaquino’s strongholds in southern Colombia and at 19:45, we will execute a drone strike. This is proportional response-“

Bucky cringed at the phrase, knowing Steve’s incredible distaste for it.

“- and therefore it should not be interpreted as an act of war against a non-sovereign state.”

“How many drones,” Darcy asked, taking furious notes. As she and Nat talked about details, Bucky realized all the things Nat wasn’t saying. 

“Darcy,” Bucky said. “Get started on the first half and I’ll meet you in my office in 90 minutes.”

Darcy blinked a few times, but this was the nature of working for a network of best friends. Sometimes things had nothing to do with security clearances or political strategy. 

“I’m going to call Senior Staff at 3,” Nat said when the door closed. 

“We’re shelving GTF aren’t we,” Bucky said. 

“We’re delaying it,” Nat said. “I don’t see how we can’t.”

“Steve’s gonna fight us.”

“And so then this is when we earn our paycheck,” Nat said calmly. “In this moment, when the security of the nation is on the line and all I’m asking Stark for is a goddamn breath of patience, I don’t give a fuck about his data. I need all the money for this budget for Carol. Green futures can be our campaign platform, but this budget year I need military spending.”

“Stark is going to lose his mind, Steve is going to mope, and Peter’s going to try to fix everything,” Bucky said. 

“A private citizen will be upset, the President will have done his constitutional duty, and the President’s son has dealt with being upset many times before.”

“You’re a fucking automaton sometimes, Natasha,” Bucky said. 

“And sometimes you love Steve our buddy more than you love this country and until we had ‘former’ to his title, my job is to remind you that you’re not allowed to,” Nat replied. “You have approximately five minutes to stop being Steve’s best friend for at least the next 10 days. If you can’t handle that, I have no problem asking Darcy and Scott take lead on all of this.”

Bucky stared her down and blinked slowly. “No, what we’ll need to exactly for me to be Steve’s best friend because he’s going to try to be Steve and not President Rogers and someone has to hand his ass to him and that’s always been my role in our delightful little codependent triangle.”

Nat smiled sadly. “I believe we may need full Brooklyn, yes.”

Bucky was quiet for a beat. “Stark’s already on to me about coming down.”

“Is it too much to hope for that his newfound maturity will prioritize his boyfriend over his agenda?”

Bucky smiled sadly. “All he’s going to hear at first is Steve betraying a promise and that’s going to fucking hurt.”

“We can’t tell him ahead of time,” Nat reminded Bucky. 

“I know, I’m not saying we can, I’m just… this is… fucking Colombian cocksuckers.”

“Definitely have Darcy put that in the speech.”

“It’s succinct.”

_________________________

One of the reasons that Steve Rogers was a brilliant leader of massive organizations was that he could be both laser focused and big-picture strategic at the same time. He could compartmentalize like a champion, forgetting everything but the task at hand when necessary. Thankfully, his administration was designed to run to accommodate that.

When he was rushed to the Sit Room at 6am, he didn’t have to question if Peter would be okay because of course Peter would be okay unless someone told him otherwise. When it was approaching 8am and his growling stomach interrupted Carol reading out coordinates, someone made food appear for the entire room, the same happening for lunch, not that Steve had an easy time eating when he was considering ordering the murder of humans – proportionate response or not. 

By 6:45pm, he was running entirely on Red Bull and potato chips and was looking over the latest draft of the address when Bucky and Nat walked into his private office. 

“No,” Steve said as they entered. “I’m not shelving it.”

“Yes, you are,” Bucky said patiently. 

“No, there’s-“

“Mr. President,” Bucky held up a hand. “We have ten days before the State of the Union. The United States hasn’t been attacked on our own soil in over twenty years and on a military base well before that. These motherfuckers are declaring war and we can’t act like they are because they’re not a sovereign nation and there are rules and all of that is messy enough without trying to cut spending at this moment.”

“The votes are there and the package is groundbreaking and good. He deserves-“

“You mean _it_ , don’t you sir?” Bucky said, cutting Steve off. “You mean the groundbreaking piece of legislation deserves, right? Because you can’t be telling me that you’re about to let a man you have known for less than six months fuck up a key moment in American history because you’re finally getting your dick wet?”

“JAMES,” Natasha barked, “that is enough.”

“No, Natasha, I don’t think it is,” Bucky growled, “because this man is my _President_ and those of us who have the privilege to be in the rooms where things happen must exercise our responsibility to remind him of that.

“You go out there tonight and you don’t mention our budgetary priority of military spending and the only thing everyone is going to hear is that Stark has bought the Presidency. They’re going to make this all about character and all of the lies of the last administration are going to act as a PTSD cover and you are going to be a former President before the other side even picks their candidate. 

“People are desperate for leadership, Mr. President. They are so desperate for genuine, authentic leadership that they’ll crawl through the desert to a fountain and when they discover that it’s a mirage, they’ll drink the sand.”

Bucky knew he was pushing, but they needed Steve in Captain America, President Rogers mode tonight and it was his job to get him there. By the tick in Steve’s jaw and the glint of anger in his eyes, Bucky knew he had accomplished his mission. 

“We have had presidents who are beloved, Buck, who can’t find an ethical sentence with two hands and a flashlight. People don’t drink the sand because they’re thirsty, they drink the sand because they don’t know the difference.”

“Mr. President-“ Nat said, but Steve held up his hand. 

“Shelve GTF and get a final draft of the address on my desk by 8pm,” Steve commanded. “Someone go get Peter, I want him in the room with me when we do this and I want to explain to him what we’re doing and I want to make sure that Tony doesn’t talk to him. I don’t have time for Stark dramatics tonight. I’ll talk to him tomorrow. That will be all.”

“Thank you, Mr. President,” Nat and Bucky both said as they backed out of the room, leaving Steve by himself. 

“Brooklyn enough for you,” Bucky muttered to Nat. 

Nat paused and pulled Bucky into a hug. “Go get Peter and let’s just get through this night.”

_________________________

“Dad, you wanted to see me?” Peter walked into Steve’s office.

“I did, buddy, yeah,” Steve got up and headed for the couch, motioning for Peter to take a seat. “I wanted you to hear from me what we’re about to do.”

Peter nodded solemnly. This tradition had started when Steve was governor. Whenever he could, Peter heard serious things straight from Steve and not from the news. 

“You know that overnight, some of El Chapaquino stole planes from the Mexican military and flew them to bomb Ft. Hood.”

“Yes, and there are 45 people dead and 750 more in critical condition,” Peter said quietly. 

Steve nodded. “We were lucky that their coordinates were off, or it would have been more, but they mostly got offices that were closed for the night. For a few weeks now, we’ve known where one of their main bases is in southern Colombia and about four hours ago, I authorized a drone strike. All the estimates say that there will be minimum casualties, but this is a risk that could antagonize them further into harming Americans, so we’re trying to be very careful.”

“But we have to do something, right?”

Steve nodded. “It would help me a lot if you were in the room with me when I make the address, do you think you can do that?”

Peter nodded. “I want to be there.”

Steve smiled at his son, seeing both the man he was becoming and the child he’d always be simultaneously. “And I need you to promise me you won’t talk to Tony between now and then, okay?”

Peter looked surprised. “Um, sure, okay.”

Steve knew he should make sure that Peter was okay with that, or understood it, but he honestly just didn’t have the energy. Instead, he kissed the top of Peter’s head and told the boy to meet him back in the Oval at 7:55.

_________________________

Pepper had convinced Tony to watch the address with her, mostly because he had been gnawing on his cuticles from nerves all day and she was worried he’d move onto fingers next.

_“I get why I can’t talk to him, Pep, but Peter? They’ve even blacked me out from Peter.”_

_“Tony, the only reason Steve isn’t in a bunker somewhere right now is that they have evidence the planes left American airspace. Calm down, they’re just doing everything they can to keep people safe.”_

As the address started, Tony muttered that Steve looked exhausted but completely serious. “That’s his Captain face,” he smiled softly. 

Tony’s face changed, however, as the speech went on. 

“Pepper,” Tony said slowly. “Is he saying what I think he’s saying?”

“He used the word ‘development’,” Pepper whispered. “We use that when we –“

“I use that word when I shift priorities and don’t tell anyone,” Tony said. “I used that when I moved the, FUCK, he’s fucking me. Right here on national television without so much as a goddamn heads up.”

“We don’t know that, Tony!”

But then the tweets started from allies of Tony’s he had lined up to vote for GTF, supporting the President’s spending increases to military intelligence and security and Tony’s body language went from bewildered, to defeated, to furious. 

As Steve signed off with the usual Presidential wishes for God to bless America, Tony was nearly nuclear. 

“Don’t wait up, Pep,” he called as he headed to workshop.

_________________________

“Sir, you have a call from Tony Stark on line 7,” said the voice in Fury’s earpiece.

“Patch him through,” Fury had been expecting this. He just wasn’t sure if he was monitoring the skies or the ground. 

“Stark,” Fury greeted. 

“I’m the flying thing and I wouldn’t say I’m feeling very friendly but I promise not to assassinate your President.”

Fury hid a smile. “Access granted, Stark. Please land in the coordinates I’m patching through to Jarvis.”

The line cut off and Fury cackled a little. The minute the President had told him he had entered into a romantic relationship with Tony Stark, he knew to expect this kind of behavior. 

“Tin Man is incoming,” he radioed on the channel for the West Wing agents. “He knows to leave the suit parked on the ground level, but I imagine the fireworks won’t stop there.”

Kwame snorted. “Roger that.”

_________________________

Steve ran an exhausted hand over his face. The speech had been delayed slightly to allow the drones to get back into international airspace over the Caribbean Sea, but they had just received full confirmation that the strike was ‘successful’. What even did that mean? He was sure there were women and children dead because of his command and he knew enough about terrorist organizations that few of them actually consented to be there.

He’d had to go straight back down to the Sit Room because it didn’t take long for some of the heads of El Chapaquino to take to their various internet outlets and throw some threatening videos. The problem with these guys is that while they were sloppy and desperate, they were also clearly well-funded and well connected, and their entire motivation seemed to be to just watch the world burn. 

As one of the world’s leading firefighters, they were getting tiresome. 

“Sir,” Kwame met him at the bottom of the stairs to the Residence. “Mr. Stark arrived approximately twenty minutes ago and is waiting in the living room.”

“Well, that was quicker than I anticipated,” Steve mused. 

“He flew his suit, sir,” Kwame responded. 

Steve barked out a laugh. “Sure, right, this is going to be fun.”

“Do you want us to ask him to leave, sir?”

“No, we’ll be adults about this,” Steve said sadly as they climbed the stairs and the door to the living room was in sight. “I’m secure for the night, no matter how loud I cry.”

Kwame nodded briefly and radioed to the team that Brooklyn was in bed. 

Steve opened the door to find Tony pouring himself scotch and flipping a hologram around above the table. 

“What is that?” Steve asked. 

“A turbine compactor I’m trying to figure out a way to give to farmers without government subsidies since my boyfriend just fucked them over.”

“So we’re doing this.”

“Did you honestly think we wouldn’t?!” Tony nearly screamed. 

“This was the only path forward right now, Tony!”

“Oh fuck that, you had a choice, and you made it!”

For the next thirty minutes, the two men alternated yelling at each other with trying to make the other one see reason. Steve felt Tony slipping further and further away with every breath until finally Tony threw up his hands. 

“Tell Peter the offer for the trip still stands, and I’ll still look at all his prototypes.”

“Tony, I don’t want to lose you over this.”

Tony barked out a laughter. “Oh, Mr. President, you have bigger problems than losing me.” He drained his scotch and stalked over to the door. “You just lost my vote.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next one are pretty hardcore lifted from the movie, including direct lines of dialogue, so if it sounds _really good_ it's probably safe to assume that Sorkin wrote it. 
> 
> Thanks for all your comments, queries and other engagements - if you're a writer, you know how motivating it is to know your words are resonating with people. I write to challenge myself, to see if I can make a plot line work, to have fun, and wrestle my louder demons. I share on this site because I hope to bring joy and escape, so I'm always grateful when you let me know I'm hitting the target :-D


	13. Chapter 13

The week went by in a daze for Steve. He spent a good chunk of it at Ft. Hood, consoling family members and visiting hospitals. It was also full of preparation for the State of the Union – by his last count, they were on draft 256, but at this point he was proud of himself for getting dressed every morning so who the fuck really knew. 

Peter had been in his room a lot, and Steve knew he was talking to Tony, but also knew he could not risk hearing the man’s voice. Nat and Bucky kept reminding him that he had done the right thing and that once the SOTU was over, he could go grovel and they were sure he’d win Tony back and it would all be fine. 

Steve knew in his soul it would not be fine. 

Pepper had made that clear. 

_“I’m not saying that what you did wasn’t necessary, Mr. President,” her voice came down the line and Steve winced that he had gone back to titles. “But how you did it was entirely unnecessary. People who claim they love others do not betray them on national television without so much as a text message warning. Mr. Stark is currently with his board of directors,” another wince since Steve knew Tony would rather have his appendix removed through his toenails than be with his board, “and will return your call whenever he deems necessary.”_

_“Pepper-“ Steve said quietly._

_“Mr. President, I apologize, but I find that address much too informal. Should you need to conduct any further business with Stark Industries, my assistant Mrs. Parker will be delighted to assist you.”_

_As Steve heard the dial tone ring out in his ear and fought back the tears._

The thing was, Pepper was right, understandably hyperbolic, but right, but so was his team. In that moment, he had to make that decision and he had to make it that way, but it would not have killed national security for him to send a secure text message to his boyfriend saying that what was about to happen was going to be horrible but he’d explain as soon as he could and asked said boyfriend to trust him. Tony was an impatient jackass but he wasn’t an idiot and Steve probably could have bought at least a little time with a simple considerate gesture. 

But he withheld information, thinking it would protect Tony in the long run –he didn’t need anyone finding a text that Steve had warned a private citizen with financial stakes in the region about a possible attack – and not thinking about how it would hurt in the current term. How it would feel for Tony to sit in New York and not be able to get a hold of Steve, to not know from Steve’s mouth how he felt about what he was about to do, how torn up he was, how much he cried for each of the bodies the satellite confirmation images had revealed. 

And then Steve had stood in his living room, told Tony he was overreacting, after Tony had been so hurt and so confused that he flew his fucking suit down, and ignored the beating in his chest that said that his boyfriend was also worried about him. Even worse, he ignored it outright when Tony called him on it. 

_“Do you have ANY IDEA what it feels like to know you had to make that decision and I couldn’t help?!” Tony rage whispered. “We’ve talked about how much you hate this part of your job, how much you… I could have been sitting here to help you when you got off the call, I could have even just been on the phone, I could have been with Peter, I could have been your fucking boyfriend but instead you treated me like the adversary I started off as and so I guess the last several months mean nothing to you?”_

_“Anthony, please.”_

_“Oh fuck you, Steven,” Tony spat. “We said no games.”_

After he got back from Texas, Steve found himself wandering through the White House at all hours, talking to Peggy just to have a direction for his self-loathing and his thoughts. He noticed that both Bucky and Nat had essentially moved into the Residence but continued to let him do his nightly walks alone. 

He needed the quiet. 

The noise of the job, the pressure, the voices – they had crowded out what was most important, why he ran in the first place, why he was the man he was… he needed the quiet. 

Finally, it was 7am the day before the State of the Union and he knew it was now or never. He knew that this wasn’t about Tony any more, even though it was, it was about being the authentic leader that he had promised the American people he would be all those months ago and the man he was asking them to vote for again. 

Senior Staff was starting in 30 minutes, but he needed to get started. Pulling out the official phone, he texted Aaron. 

_POTUS: Main briefing today is when?_

_PressSec: 10:30. Giving them the final public talking points of the SOTU._

_POTUS: I need 10 minutes._

_PressSec: Yes, sir._

Putting his phone back in his pocket, he sighed and rose to head up to the Residence because this fell in the category of ‘Things Peter Shouldn’t Find Out from Anderson Cooper’.

Things had been slightly frosty between father and son since his and Tony’s fight and Peter clearly believed his dad was the guilty party. 

_“Dad, you tell me all the time to not be a jerk and if I am, I need to say that I’m sorry and own up to it like a grownup.”_

_Steve sighed. “It’s more complicated than that, Petey.”_

_“That is what adults say when they want to act like children,” Peter replied. “There is no way it’s complicated enough to justify you guys not talking! You’re both miserable! This is so stupid!”_

_Steve couldn’t stop the look of hope from crossing his face, but Peter shut him down. “No, I am not telling you anything. MJ’s parents are divorced and she told me the worst thing you can do is be the snitch and so, no, Dad, if you want to know how Tony is, you have a phone.”_

_Steve was, once again, incredibly impressed with his kid and simultaneously feeling the need to strangle him, so he simply kissed his forehead and replied. “It is complicated because both of us are right. I screwed up, but he also has to realize there are realities about the world that he can’t control, which is hard for Tony. I need you to trust me that this will get fixed, but we need some time._

_“Also,” Steve continued as Peter made a face like he was going to interrupt. “Just because you are smarter than the average bear doesn’t mean you’re omniscient. There are things you don’t know and there are times you need to trust me that I am the adult here and I’ve seen a lot more life than you. I want you to keep speaking your mind, even though I’m not thrilled with the tone you used just now, but remember what Mom always used to say.”_

_Peter looked down at his hands and picked at his cuticles. “If I ask you guys to trust me, then I have to trust you back.”_

_“Exactly.”_

“Dad!” Peter said as Steve walked into the kitchen. “What are doing here?”

“Spidey, I need to ask you something pretty serious.”

Peter put down his cereal spoon and looked his dad directly in the eyes. “Shoot.”

“Are you comfortable with me going public with how I feel about Tony.”

“Yes,” Peter said so quickly Steve hadn’t even finished Tony’s name. 

Steve chucked. “Don’t rush there, kiddo.”

Peter grinned. “When you and Mom asked me if you could run for President, I remember she told me she thought you’d be the best one because you always bring your whole self to the table. How can you do that if a piece of yourself is hidden away? I mean, I get why you didn’t tell people before this, and it’s a totally personal decision I get that, but if you’re asking me, then I say yes. I say yes because I like you guys together – he makes you happy like Mom did and I know Mom would want you to love him because I know she’d love him and she just really wanted us to be happy.

“Plus,” Peter dipped his head a bit, as though this was even more personal. “Representation matters, right? That’s what Aunt Nat and MJ are always saying – we need to be able to see ourselves in the things that we love and believe in in order to dream them into reality, and… well, I think it would be pretty amazing for queer kids in America, but also the rest of the world, to see that the most powerful man in America loves dudes and that however they feel about who they are and who they love is normal. For me, Dad, that would be the most important thing you could do as President.”

Steve didn’t bother to hold back the tears clouding his vision. “You are 100% right, Petey, on all counts. Your mom used to be on me to come out and I promised her I would wait until there was someone worth coming out for, and I think Tony’s it. Even if I’ve ruined it, or even if we can’t come back from this, he’s worth it to me.”

“Then he’s worth it to me,” Peter said. “Could you just, like, let me know when you’re going to make a big speech because school is going to be a nightmare.”

Steve laughed and checked his watch. “About three hours from now.”

“Oh, great,” Peter blanched. 

“A real nightmare, Petey?” Steve said quietly. “Do you want to stay home?”

“Oh, no, I don’t want any of them to think I’m ashamed of you, I just… MJ’s going to kick someone in the nuts over some comment, I’m sure, and I just need to be prepared.”

“I’ll give your agents for the day a heads up,” Steve winked. “So that they can get out of her way.”

_________________________

“Has he said anything to you?” Nat whispered to Bucky, who shook his head. The pair were standing at the back of the White House Press Briefing Room. “So this will either be the greatest day of his Presidency or we’ll be filing for unemployment come January.”

Bucky nodded and smirked. “If he comes out here at Steve, we’re fucked. He comes out as Captain and this’ll be a YouTube clip for the ages.”

“It’s been a while since we got a good Captain America speech,” Nat mused. 

They had decided not to alert the press that Steve had a statement because, well, Bucky didn’t fully believe he’d go through with it. So when the side door burst open and Steve strode in with perfect posture and his full charming smile in place, Bucky winked at Nat and they settled in. 

“Sit down, sit down. I don’t have this typed, so Aaron can’t circulate it, and I’m only saying any of this once, so I hope you all remember your shorthand courses,” Steve said to a gentle chuckle through the room. 

“Over the last several weeks, there’s been a lot of people calling my character into question. Senator Pierce, for example, has been making quite a lot of rounds on the morning shows explaining that being friends with a man who was once photographed doing coke off of an adult entertainer meant that I was not only not qualified to be a father, but not qualified to be your President. He also seems to be confused how I can manage to maintain a friendship with a, what’s the line, former warmonger turned hippie? Yes, that’s it, without compromising the ideals of the American people and has also had several fascinating comments regarding my sexual orientation. 

“I would like to thank Mr. Pierce, and others, for their concern regarding my parenting skills, my marriage, my friendships, and my character. I have a few clarifying statements regarding all of those now. I have been here three years and three days, and I can tell you without hesitation: Being President of this country is entirely about character.

“America isn't easy. America is advanced citizenship. You've gotta want it bad, 'cause it's gonna put up a fight. It's gonna say, "You want free speech? Let's see you acknowledge a man whose words make your blood boil, who's standing center stage and advocating at the top of his lungs that which you would spend a lifetime opposing at the top of yours." The American Experiment is the grand idea that we can all make it work, whatever it takes, because we are constantly unfinished. 

“I've known Alexander Pierce for years. And I've been operating under the assumption that the reason he devotes so much time and energy to shouting at the rain was that he simply didn't get it. Well, I was wrong. His problem isn't that he doesn't get it. Alex’s problem is that he can't sell it!

“We have serious problems to solve, and we need serious people to solve them. And whatever your particular problem is, I promise you that Alexander Pierce is not the least bit interested in solving it. He is interested in two things, and two things only: making you afraid of it and telling you who's to blame for it. That, ladies and gentlemen, is how you win elections these days. 

You gather a group of middle age, middle class, middle income, conservative white voters, who remember with longing an easier time, and you talk to them about family, and American values and character, and you talk about the homosexual agenda or damaging liberals coming for their children and you scream about patriotism. You tell them the President’s new best friend to blame for their lot in life – especially because he’s not just a friend, he’s the President’s boyfriend, and you talk about corrupting the children and how the President is a liar and you opine fondly about a woman you’ve never met but who serves as a great foil for your narrative. 

Anthony Edward Stark has done nothing to you, Alex, except invent artificial intelligence, earn four PhDs in advanced robotics, and win a Nobel Prize in Engineering for his invention of the ARC reactor, a small version of which keeps him alive today. Would you guys mind if I tell you a little bit about him, because I think a lot of you could use some education,” he smiled down genially at the Press Corps, who were listening in rapt attention. 

“Over the last twenty years, Tony Stark has developed and patented over two hundred medical devices that are keeping millions of Americans alive right now, including myself, and some of which he invented because he was bored and that’s the level of genius he is. He’s personally revolutionized prosthetics, as my Communications Director James Barnes would be happy to attest to as he’s currently using Stark Industries’ newest prototype for a full left arm replacement. He’s invested billions into engineering programs in universities around the world through shell companies you can’t trace back to him because he’s always been a passionate advocate for the genius of humans but didn’t think any of us would give him the benefit of the doubt that he was a good guy.

“He has shifted his father’s legacy away from the titles we all so cavalierly placed on him while we were all busy holding him accountable for the actions of a teenager forced to take over his father’s company at 21 after a tragic accident. Has he done regrettable things and made massive errors and spent far too much money on truly questionable sunglasses? Yes. But he is one of the best of us. 

“You want a character debate, Pierce? You better stick with me, 'cause Tony Stark is way out of your league.

“Margaret Carter was the first love of my life and were she still with us, she would be asking quite a few of you to get her name out of your mouth,” he smiled as a few folks in the room chuckled, especially those who knew Peggy from her time as First Lady of New York. “She was fierce, and wise, and a perfect mother, and I know she would have been an amazing First Lady of the United States. You all would have loved her and been infuriated by her. I miss her like I’d miss a limb and so does Peter. 

“I came out to my family as a bisexual in 2005. The decision to keep this part of myself private has nothing to do with being embarrassed and everything to do with wanting something of my life that was… well, just mine. Don’t Ask Don’t Tell was not yet repealed and I was also terrified of losing my standing as a veteran in good standing. It also felt largely irrelevant since Peggy and I had built a strong marriage and when Peter was born, we were delighted. 

“When I told you all in my first campaign that I was a happily married man and father of one, a proud veteran of the United States Marine Corps, and asked you to trust me, all of that was true. About six months ago, I realized that it was no longer acceptable for me to keep this other piece of me private as a new person entered my life and rearranged it. In the last months of her life, Peggy begged me to come out to all of you as soon as I was ready, but to make sure you all knew that at the same time, the stories about her and me were true. I know I loved her the same way that I know I love Tony Stark. 

“In this way, Alex is right that keeping this piece of me from you all may be about my character, but not in the way he means, because I am not ashamed that I have loved two people in my life – I lost the first one to cancer and I lost the second one because I was too busy keeping my job that I forgot to do my job. That ends now. 

“Tomorrow morning the White House is sending a bill to Congress for its consideration. It's White House Resolution 455, otherwise known as the Green Tech Futures initiative and it calls for a 20% budget increase for research into green technologies by the end of 2025, leading to an overall 40% reduction in the negative effects of climate change by 2030. It’s aggressive, and some may even say impossible, but I believe the American people deserve an aggressive plan to ensure the future of the planet. It also ensures that 25% of all future military spending packages will be devoted to using technology as poverty alleviation, as every smart person on the planet tells us that the best way to defeat terrorism is to combat both climate change and generational poverty. 

“The other military spending package was White House Resolution 275 that I announced last week and I gotta be honest with you guys, it’s not going to work and the brave men and women who lost their lives last week deserve more. I’m not giving them the equivalent of band aids on bullet holes anymore; we are overhauling our military spending protocols so that we can craft a spending package that gives our soldiers what they really need in the long term– a sustainable, stable planet with resources to prevent conflict and combat trauma – while also providing for the immediate term.

“We've got serious problems, and we need serious people to solve them. And, Pierce, if you want to talk about character, you better come at me with more than vaguely disguised homophobia and blatant bigotry. If you want to talk about character and American values, Alex, fine. Just tell me where and when, and I'll show up. This a time for serious people, Alexander, and your fifteen minutes are up.

“My name is Steven Rogers, and I am the President.”

He nodded at the Press Corps, winked back towards where he knew Bucky and Nat were sitting, and strode out of the room. 

Bucky wiped the tears from his eyes and scrambled to his feet, looking over at Darcy has he did. “You have 36 hours to re-write the entire State of the Union, kid.”

“Oh good, I was worried I’d get bored,” she drawled as she drew her hair back into a bun and nearly ran out the door. 

“I love a good Captain America speech,” Bucky said to Nat. 

“I’m just busy being furious he did that all off the top of his head.”

“We work for a genius, Nat.”

“A desperately in love, patriotic genius,” she replied with a smile. “You go mop up the drool from all their dropped jaws, I’ll go find our boy.”

_________________________

“Sir, I think you need to hear something,” Jarvis interrupted the blast of Led Zeppelin.

“I only need to hear Led right now, Jarvis, but thank you for your input,” Tony snarked. 

“Tony,” Pepper’s voice rang out through the workshop. 

“Not you fucking too,” Tony said. “I’m welding down here.”

“Well, now you’re watching C-SPAN,” retorted Pepper as Jarvis flipped the video feed up onto the workshop wall as Tony watched the love of his life claim him publicly. 

“Jarvis,” Tony said through chocked tears. “Get the suit ready.”

_________________________

“So, what’s the plan now, Mr. President?” Nat said as she found Steve striding purposefully towards the Residence.

“I have absolutely no idea, but I want Marine One ready in thirty. I’ll figure out what I want to say on the way up there and I am 100% sure groveling will be involved.”

Nat smirked. “Would you like me to just give the State of the Union?”

“Could you? That would save a lot of gas,” Steve smiled back. 

“Sir,” an agent Steve didn’t know well stepped out into his path and handed Steve a cell phone. “I have Agent Fury for you.”

“Mr. President, a kind-of identified flying object just passed through Philadelphia air space. Am I assuming I can give him permission to land?”

“Absolutely, Agent Fury.”

“Nice speech, sir,” Fury responded, hanging up the phone. 

“He’s on his way,” Steve handed back the phone and grinned at Nat. 

“Well, then do you have 20 minutes to spare to help me get Darcy to breathe into a paper bag?”

“Yeah, I kinda fucked her didn’t I?”

“If she makes it through this thing giving you coherent sentences and doesn’t have a heart attack, I think it might mean a Purple Heart.”

Steve laughed and the pair made their way back down to the Oval Office, knowing it would be about another bit before Tony got there. Darcy sent aide after aide with sentence ideas and Bucky clarified new position points and Clint helped with making sure everyone had everything they needed and it might have looked like chaos, but it was a well choreographed chaos. 

Finally, 37 minutes later, Steve was blessedly alone in the room when he heard Tony’s voice. _“Lt. Johnson how lovely to see you again, can I park the suit here? Fabulous, is he in the Oval? Excellent”_ and then the door burst open and Tony strolled in as though nothing was amiss. 

“Well, Steven, I had heard all these rumors of you speechifying and whatnot, but I have to say they were greatly exaggerated.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve smiled. 

“I mean, I guess it was fine.”

The two men smiled at each other before Steve crossed the room and kissed his boyfriend. 

“I didn’t can it to get you back,” he whispered as he broke the kiss. 

“I didn’t come back because you canned it, drama queen,” Tony whispered. The pair stood, embracing in the middle of the Oval Office as the doors started flying open again. 

“Mr. President,” Darcy started and then paused. “Hey, Mr. Stark.”

“Hey Darce,” Tony responded, neither taking his eyes of Steve nor moving from his arms. 

“I think we need to move section 8 to the middle of section 3 and I think James is on his way-“

“Tin Can!” Bucky said jovially. “Welcome back.”

“Hiya Buckaroo,” Tony said, still without moving. 

“Um, we got a thing, so can you possibly extract yourself or do we need the Jaws of Life?”

Steve chuckled and kissed Tony quickly before letting him go. “I do, indeed, have a thing.”

“Um, Stark?” Bucky said. “We could actually use the help since this muppet here just gave your thing center stage.”

Tony’s eyes twinkled a little and pulled a tablet from his pocket. “Then it’s good I brought Jarvis.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably 40% of Steve's speech is a direct lift from Shepherd's in the movie, so again thanks to Aaron Sorkin for being a linguistic genius. 
> 
> And thanks to all of you who have been so encouraging in this little venture!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone concerned it was ending soon - this chapter is 8500 words. :-D

**Spring 2024**

“Peter, did you finish your English essay?” Steve asked over the phone from yet another Hilton in yet another state. 

“Yeah, but I still maintain that _Catcher in the Rye_ is a dumb book,” Peter huffed through the phone. 

“Zero percent disagreement over here, kiddo,” Steve affirmed. 

“Why do I put up with you being President if you can’t fix things like not having to read dumb books?” Peter said jokingly. 

“Ah, but reading dumb books is an essential part of the American student experience I would never want to rob you of,” Steve opined, and he could nearly feel Peter’s eye roll. 

There were candidates who were energized by the campaign trail, who found their purpose in conversations with citizens and loved the challenge of convincing opponents to their views and didn’t tire of diners or kissing babies or warmed-over catering chicken. 

Steve was not one of those candidates. 

While he really did love time with citizens, he was more interested in valuable conversations with a few people instead of meet and greets with a lot of folks and while his team tried hard to get him a balance of those, it was never balanced enough. He hated chicken, as a rule, and while he wasn’t too upset by diners, they always made him homesick for Brooklyn. 

The task of running for President and still serving as Governor was challenging, but it had nothing on trying to be President and running for President and he found himself installing countdown apps on his phone for November. 

“Babe,” Tony said quietly after Steve hung up with Peter. “You know you don’t have to run again.” 

Surprising no one, Tony had risen to his role as First Boyfriend with aplomb. He was easily the hero of the campaign trail and his extroversion meant he was an able social smoothing entity for Steve. When Steve was too tired to make small talk or couldn’t keep everyone straight, Tony jumped in with a quip or a monologue or a redirect and gave Steve a few seconds to take a deep breath and temporarily recharge. 

On this particular night in early April, they were in Charleston and had participated in a Low Country boil that evening and several of the locals had quite a good time making fun of Tony in his Armani suit eating with his hands. It was Day 6 of this particular 10-day trip and between missing Peter and having some honest-to-God national issues to take care of, Steve was feeling a little stretched. 

“I know,” Steve sighed. “I know, I’m the one saying I have to run again and it’s the right decision, it’s just that right now I’d pay a lot of money to not have to care about finding a new Russian ambassador or sucking up to the Mayor of Atlanta – who I loathe.” 

Tony was quiet for a few seconds – something which always slightly unnerved Steve – before responding. “Do you want me to talk you in or out of this?” 

“What?” 

“The Presidency. I can talk you in or out of it. Which one?” 

“I already told you-“ 

“In or out, Rogers.” 

“Out,” Steve sighed. “Just out of curiosity, talk me out of it.” 

Tony nodded and worried his lip for a few beats. “You have been serving your country basically since your balls dropped and I think you get to take a break. Even if all you had done was manage to restructure the VA, that would have cemented your legacy as one of the greatest men to serve in American history, but then you went all over achiever on us and had to become a fantastic governor and, so far, a pretty decent President, which is a big compliment because everyone knows what a shithole you inherited from numbnuts back there. 

“But you buried Peggy less than an administration ago and you and I are trying to build a future while traveling around to various Hilton hotels, and pretty soon your kid is going to be in college and if I have my way, it will be MIT and since we know I’ll get my way, he’ll be in Boston and so maybe we have to move to Boston and that would mean moving straight from D.C. to Boston and I think we want some time in New York, don’t you? 

“So, tell the party to go fuck itself and let’s ride off into our happily ever after.” 

Steve blinked. “Talk me into it.” 

Tony smiled. “You’re not done yet, babe. The American Experiment is a participatory event and it’s not time for you to head to the sidelines. We have work to do and I don’t trust anyone else in the world to lead us into this next bit. I know you’re not done yet because your brain is just as big as your stubborn streak and you managed to do a whole fuck ton of good without me, so imagine how great it’s going to be when I’m making sure you’re getting laid on the regular.” 

Steve barked out a laugh. “Is that all for the talking me into it?” 

Tony slid his hand into Steve’s. “Peter wants you to.” 

“Well, that seals it then.” 

****

_________________________

“When’s the next time Tony’s with us?” Bucky asked Steve from the campaign bus in the middle of May.

“Obie has decided to throw a Stark Expo this year-“

“Fuck that guy-“

“No arguments, and he wants Howard’s flying car to be part of it, so Tony’s trying to make the suit thrusters work with the car axels and long story short, I haven’t actually spoken to him in three days.”

Bucky barked out a laugh. “True or false, if Jarvis didn’t do scans on Tony’s vitals you would resign and move into his workshop.”

“True,” Steve grinned. “God, imagine that, I could just sit on the couch and sketch and make sure he was fed and watered-“

“And be the mother hen you were always made to be, Stevie,” Bucky smiled. “Four and a half more years and you can be your boy toy’s kept man, okay?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “To answer your question-“

“- and to ignore my point-“

“He leaves for Tokyo next week and I think Pep said he’s gone for three days. After that he’s doing the California stops for us, remember?”

“Yeah, it’s on the calendar, but I can’t see when you two will be together at a thing again,” Bucky flipped through some pages on his tablet. “Those are the ones we get the highest VIP meet and greet tickets for.”

“Um…” Steve fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Phillips?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Can you scan messages and events to see when the next time Tony and I are committed to a public campaign event?”

“Still fucking freaks me out you have a portable AI,” Bucky muttered. 

“You’re just jealous,” Steve responded as Phillips quickly told them the next event was in Chicago in four weeks’ time. 

“Phillips,” Bucky said. “Can you get Nat to call us when she has a second?”

“Certainly, Sargent.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You’re such a fucker for the code names.”

Steve gave a gleeful smile. “Give a grandpa his joy. What do you want Nat for?”

“The first night Tony’s in California is a fundraiser at Hammer’s and you’re supposed to be in Singapore for that summit, but a: I do not trust Tony alone with Hammer and b: you’re pissed at Nancy for sending you to Singapore anyway, so I want to see if I can get someone from State to cover Singapore and you go with Tony so I have only one international incident on my hands.”

“Running was a lot easier when we were doing it from Albany,” Steve lamented. 

As the campaign bus rolled on from Columbus to Cleveland, various staffers and their campaign director, Amelia Potter, dropped by the table where Bucky and Steve had camped out. Things were coming together, the poll numbers were positive, and Steve felt good, optimistic even. 

Of course, he had no idea how naive that was.

_________________________

“There’s no note?” Pepper whispered from Tony’s workshop with Nat, Bucky and Steve on hologram call.

“No,” Nat confirmed. “It’s been 48hrs and there’s no note, so Nancy is confident this isn’t a kidnapping.”

“There’s also no body,” Bucky whispered. 

Tony had been in Tokyo on his first international trip with Secret Service protection. He had fought Steve and Fury tooth and nail about his panic button, so when it had gone off, Fury thought maybe Stark was fucking with them. 

Until he couldn’t get a hold of either of Tony’s agents and Tokyo police had rushed to Tony’s hotel room to find two dead agents and a missing Tony. The security cameras had been doctored, and Steve hadn’t slept in two days. He had given his team 48 more hours to find Tony before he and Sam were going to have to have a serious conversation about Sam temporarily taking over, because Steve wasn't going to be able to separate 'President' and 'boyfriend' much longer. 

“There’s no note,” Pepper said again in a tone that drew all their eyes to her. “Jarvis?”

“Yes, Ms. Potts?”

“Where is Obie’s current location?”

“He is registered as in his office, Ms. Potts.”

“Video please.”

The screen opened to an empty office. 

“Jarvis, override code 5894-7HS,” Pepper said confidently as everyone watched in slight confusion. The screen changed from Obie’s office to a long stream of coding. Finally, Jarvis spoke. 

“Stark Industries Shanghai.”

Pepper closed her eyes for a minute before she turned to Steve. “Tony is in Shanghai and I can bet you his net worth he’s still alive. Wait, Jarvis, scan Shanghai sector 87 for heat signal 7007.”

Jarvis was quiet for a few moments, but then said one word in a tone that could only be described as relief. “Confirmed.”

“Yes, he’s definitely still alive, but he might not be for much longer, so I need to talk to Director Alvarez immediately.”

Nat was dialing before anyone else could blink.

“Still nothing, Nat,” Nancy’s voice rang clear into the room through the hologram. 

“Well, I got Pepper Potts and she’s about to save the day,” Nat said. “Pepper, floor’s yours.”

“Hi, Director Alvarez. Tony’s being held at our facility in Shanghai by our CEO Obadiah Stane.”

There were a few beats of silence. “I’m assuming you have receipts, Ms. Potts?”

Pepper chuckled. “Everything I’m about to say is going to sound insane, but please trust me that Howard Stark’s paranoia was rarely unfounded. Tony, Obie, and our board chair Roger Hammond, all have permanent tracking devices installed in their spines. Tony’s has actually been there since he was born, but Obie got his in 1985 when he was appointed CEO. 

“Since Tony got back from Afghanistan, I’ve been gathering evidence that Obie has been running a shadow division within SI to continue weapons production. The problem is that Tony is the only person who knows the full schematics to the Jericho Missile – he has to finish the final coding in every single one as a proprietary measure. The first code I read out is Obie’s tracker and the heat signature is the one I had Jarvis code Tony with when he disappeared on me in Iceland once and I was angry. 

“I didn’t have enough to go to the board with it, but I have all the documents on one of Jarvis’ secure servers. Jarvis, can you release private file Cinnamon Toast and Crunch and send all non-proprietary information to Director Alvarez?”

“Presently, ma’am.”

“Okay, I have to ask,” Steve interrupted, and Pepper grinned. 

“Well, I thought about calling it Benedict Arnold, but that was obvious, and me and Tony have nicknamed Benedict Cumberbatch Cinnamon Toast and Crunch, so that’s the connection. Most of my files are silly names because that keeps up the fiction that Obie has of me as a silly girl. Like, I’m sure he has no idea I’ve memorized his tracker number, or that I’ve put a trojan on his computer to track his keystrokes.”

“I think I just fell in love with you,” Bucky breathed. 

“I’ll look forward to the save the date,” Nancy said drolly over the phone. “Ms. Potts, I’m temporarily authorizing NSA Level Four for you, if you could join all of us in the Sit Room at your earliest convenience, I shall need your assistance to help our wet team navigate your facility.”

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll get the jet read to go, but I will need access to Jarvis for schematics.”

“That will be arranged. See you as soon as you get here.”

_________________________

“I just need the code, Anthony,” Obie snarled. “Give me the code and you can go back to your Neanderthal boyfriend.”

Tony spit out the tooth Obie had just broken. “Did you know that Steven actually has a 131 IQ which is six points higher than yours? He also graduated Magna Cum Laude from NYU, which is pretty fucking impressive since he was-“

 _POW. SLAP. POW._

Tony spit out another chunk of blood. “Obadiah, surely you know by now that this kind of situation is exactly why I designed the Jericho to have a failsafe. I’m not giving you the code for any number of reasons including that I shut down the Jericho production a fucking year ago.”

“Boy, you were a child in trauma, I knew what was best for the company and I was patient, since Ten Rings screwed things up, I thought maybe El Chapaquino would keep your boy on track and I could get our contracts back, but no, evidently you have fucking beer flavored nipples or something because he cowed out and so I had to take matters into my own hands. Give me the damn code, Anthony.”

“OVER MY LITERAL DEAD BODY, OBADIAH,” Tony screamed with all he had. 

Obie breathed deeply as though fire would explode from his nostrils. “I have been patient. 72 hours is more than enough time for you to come to your senses, but also for my dollar store Jarvis to make headway on it. Sit there in silence for all I fucking care, I’ll have the code soon enough.”

Tony panicked briefly, ran the algorithm in his head for codebreaking a 27-digit alphanumeric code that only he knew the cipher for, figured it would take a computer he hadn’t built about another week, and smiled at Obie. 

“If you could kindly send some gruel for my evening meal, as my recent dental work is going to make bread a challenge.”

Obie stormed out of the room, leaving Tony alone in his cell once again. He had slightly lost track of time – his calculations were closer to 67 hours, so he was grateful for the correction. He was curious what happened now. His agents were dead – he was sure of that – but he hadn’t really been paying attention when Fury had told him all of the emergency protocols. He had first-hand experience with the fact that the U.S. didn’t negotiate with terrorists and it wasn’t like he could give Obie a dam, since the literal only thing the lunatic wanted Tony was sitting here with. 

“I hope that the idiot hasn’t invoked the 25th,” Tony muttered to himself. “That’s the fucking last thing he needs in an election year.”

He sat in silence for a few minutes before the door opened and someone threw an ice pack into his little cell. “Thank you?” He gingerly put it to his probably-broken jaw. “They probably don’t want me passing out from the pain, choking on my own blood, and dying.”

Since he had woken up in the little room, Tony remembered that Steve told him it had helped his trauma post-Peggy to talk out loud. That the very act of voicing some of the thoughts in his head clarified them. Tony had nodded at the time, not really believing Steve because he had lived in his own head for most of his life and hadn’t started talking to himself. 

And then Tony fell in love and had started telling Steve most of the things on his mind on a regular basis. So when he found himself in a room in what he assumed was the sub-basement of his Shanghai plant, he started talking to Steve.

“Babe, Baldie says I’m on Day 3 down here, and I’m assuming you’re looking for me, but you also better not have blown off that rally thing in Minneapolis. We need Minnesota and I know you hate being cold, I get it, but I hope Nat dragged your ass up there even though I’m here and that you made up a truly fabulous lie about what I was doing – could it possibly have involved deep sea diving off the coast of Majorca or something? The whole captive-in-my-own factory is kind of a bummer, so hopefully you didn’t lead with that.”

He was afraid to speculate out loud about Obie or the nature of Obie’s crazy or what the fuck was really happening because he was sure the room was bugged. An added bonus of his inane Steve talk, therefore, was also to hopefully bore the living shit out of his captors – or, when he ventured into the descriptions of what he missed about Steve’s body – embarrass the living shit out them. 

“Oh, and did Peter sign up for Trig? I know that freshman year is early for it, but he really needs it to get into an engineering program worthy of him and I think he can handle it. I mean, he took Algebra II this year, which is a joke of a course anyway, so he’s well on track for Trig, which if memory serves you failed so I get to be the cool dad on this one, is it okay that I think of myself as a dad figure to him? Because I know we’re still early in this, but –“

Tony’s ramblings were interrupted by a very loud bang and his cell door swinging open. A very tall man in combat riot gear and holding a AK-47 peered down at him. “Mr. Stark?”

“No, the Dalai Llama,” Tony intoned. 

The man smiled as Tony heard a crackle of an ear piece. “The President says it’s definitely you. I’m Captain Bourke and we’re here to get you home.”

_________________________

_Stark Industries Press Office_  
New York  
May 29, 2024

_FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE_

_Stark Industries is saddened to report the death of CEO Obadiah Stane in a tragic plane crash in China. Mr. Stane was visiting SI’s facility in Shanghai when an electrical failure in his jet led to his untimely death. The thoughts and prayers of the entire Stark Industries family are with his loved ones at this difficult time._

_The Board of Directors has subsequently confirmed Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts as acting CEO, on the strong recommendation of Company President, Anthony Stark. Ms. Potts shall have the customary 90-day probationary period before a full board vote._

_________________________

“Will you stop fussing over me and go run the fucking country, please?” Tony threw a pillow at Steve.

By the time the extraction team got Tony back stateside, his medical exam revealed four broken ribs, a shattered vertebra, some damage to the ARC reactor casing that Tony wasn’t even sure how he got but he admitted to blacking out several times, a few torn ligaments in his right knee, and more skin abrasions that Steve was comfortable keeping track of. Oh, and three broken teeth, a severely bruised jaw, and a concussion. 

Tony assumed they’d wrap him up, spray him down with Bactine or something and then he could get back to work.

_“Pepper, I’m fine.”_

_“Anthony, you have taken leave of your senses if you think I am actually going to let you out of that hospital bed without an actual medical professional telling me it’s okay to.”_

_“Pep, please,” Tony pleaded. “It’s just a few broken bones, they’ll heal! Everyone is over reacting.”_

_“Tony, several points,” she started counting on her fingers. “One, please do not tell me any of us are overreacting when I had to get temporary security clearance to sit in the Situation Room and guide Navy SEALs through our factory so that they could take down our CEO who, we have discovered, has been trying to kill you for several years.”_

_“Former CEO,” Tony interrupted, which received a glare from Pepper._

_“Two, your boyfriend is Commander in Chief of the most formidable military complex in the history of the world and he would have no problem using all the powers at his disposal to restrain you within this hospital and I would not test him._

_“Finally, Steve has the world’s biggest job interview happening at the moment and he needs you to take care of Peter this summer, so you need to actually heal so you can be cleared to travel again.”_

_Tony grumbled monosyllabically at her for a few moments. “Fine, but can we at least figure out a way for me to do this from home? That way I at least have Jarvis to pester?”_

_“Now that, Mr. Stark, I believe we can arrange. Will that be all?”_

_“You’re my CEO now, Pep-“_

_“Doesn’t matter. Will that be all, Mr. Stark?”_

_Tony smiled and reached out a hand to her. “That will be all Ms. Potts.”_

It was a Friday night in the middle of June and Tony was heading into surgery the following week for a full ACL/MCL repair on his right knee. Steve had rearranged as many campaign stops as he could, but this was the last time he’d see Tony until the morning of surgery and he was … hovering. 

“Nat is running the country just fine right now,” Steve said. “Nothing is going to really happen now until after the election – summer in Washington is always about passing the budget and you helped take care of that already, so I’m largely free to pester my boyfriend.”

“Just my luck,” Tony whined and Steve grinned. 

“Mr. President, Master Peter is enquiring as to pizza toppings,” Jarvis said. 

“The usual on mine,” Steve replied, “but hold the sausage on Tony’s-“

“-I do declare, Mr. President, what a filthy mind-“

Steve flipped Tony off. “-and tell Peter he can get the garlic knots, but only if he’s actually hungry enough to eat them.”

“Presently, sir.”

“Where are you tomorrow?” Tony asked Steve. 

“Oregon for about 36 hrs and then back to D.C. for two days and then I’ll be up here for your surgery.”

“When do you get to be in one place for more than five days again?”

“November,” Steve said matter-of-factly. “Which is why I think we should go away for Thanksgiving. I can take the whole week, actually, as long as I pardon the turkey, but it’s customary for the post-election President to get a chance to breathe and if I’m not helping anyone transition, then I get even more wiggle room.”

“Where are you thinking?”

“Well, where do you own houses?”

Tony barked out a laugh. “I got a place on Grand Cayman, I think, I need to check, that I won in a poker game in ’14. If memory serves, it’s pretty secluded.”

Steve grinned. “I can’t go anywhere that requires a state visit, and if we’re going to one of your houses then Fury won’t have as much of a cow, so Thanksgiving in Grand Cayman?”

“Done, if you haven’t smothered me to death by then.”

“It’s called love, Anthony.”

_________________________

_Pepper: I counted nine bottles between the plane, the Tower, and his lab._

_Nat: Well, there’s about six here._

_Pepper: Okay, that’s not the worst it’s been._

_Nat: His ability to act perfectly sober is actually scary._

_Pepper: Decades of practice._

Pepper sighed and continued typing. 

_Pepper: I am confident that he’ll do nothing to embarrass Steve or ruin the chances of re-election, but there are only two ways he copes with terrible things: drinking and overworking and you guys have kind of taken away the second one. As much as he loves all the peopling, he draws most of his energy from being locked in a room with his bots._

_Nat: I can let him off the hook for a few weeks. Polling says we can win this thing without him. He’s helpful, yes, but not if it’s killing him. Steve would end me if this campaign broke Tony._

_Pepper: He wants to be there for the dark day, but if you could give me the first two weeks of August, that would be ideal._

_Nat: Can he be a workaholic with Peter in tow? That solves three of Bucky’s problems._

_Pepper: Absolutely. Especially once Peter’s seen some of the plants on this amended tour. But I know one of the things Tony wants to work on is nanobot vests for the Service, so Peter could definitely help with that._

_Nat: Okay, so they get back from their Sort-Of Grand Tour on July 20th, right? I’ll have Peter to New York by the 2nd of August. Can we move Peter’s birthday dinner to the tower? And then Peter can stay with Tony until the 21st when we all head to Brooklyn._

_Pepper: Yes, absolutely, we can order from that Vietnamese place he and Tony are obsessed with. I cleared both mine and Tony’s calendars completely from the 20th to the 23rd. We didn’t quite know what the dark day entailed._

_Nat: The four of us just sit in the brownstone and remember Peggy. We eat her favorite foods and tell Peter stories and cry a lot. I know Peter is anxious to drag out some of the photo albums and tell you guys his favorite stories._

_Pepper: Then we can’t wait._

_________________________

“WE ARE NOT TEMPTING THE WRATH OF THE WHATEVER FROM HIGH ATOP THE THING,” Bucky bellowed at the gathered room of staffers. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?”

Choruses of ‘yes, Mr. Barnes’ and ‘Calm the fuck down, Buck’ came from various corners of the room, depending on who was uttering them. Clint shot a paper airplane in Bucky’s direction that read ‘Polls have us at 68%, would you fucking breathe please.’

Bucky rolled his eyes and tossed Clint’s note in the nearest garbage can. 

It was 5:45 EST on Election Day and Bucky hadn’t eaten in at least twelve hours. Campaign HQ had been set up at the Henry Norman Hotel and they had basically taken over the whole thing. Steve, Tony, and Peter were all in the penthouse trying to breathe after Steve and Tony had voted first thing that morning. 

_“Mr. Stark,” the reporters called as Tony exited his polling place. “Can you tell us who you voted for?”_

_“Well, since I’m not on the ballot, I went for the second handsomest New Yorker,” he quipped as he climbed in the car._

Various rooms and lobbies around the hotel were reserved for groups of volunteers and campaign staffers who had helped, and more were gathered at various other hotels around the borough. There wasn’t a room in the hotel large enough for Steve to do his announcement later on in the evening, so they’d also rented Brooklyn Steel over in East Williamsburg for the big public party later that evening. He’d just sent a few of Darcy’s staff over there to make sure none of the various balloons has deflated. 

Bucky’s StarkPhone went off in his pocket, a number only fifteen people had, so he had a pretty good guess who this was. 

_Stevie: Clint says you’re being a weirdo._

_Bucky: I do not want our staff celebrating prematurely!_

_Stevie: Yes, we know, the wrath of the whatever. When did you eat last?_

_Bucky: I had a Red Bull and peanuts a bit ago, Mom._

_Stevie: I need you alive for the second term, can you please come up here._

_Bucky: TEMPTING THE WRATH._

_Stevie: Get your superstitious ass up here, One Arm McGee. Lin and Vanessa just got here and they brought tostones._

Bucky sent a thumbs up emoji, knowing he was defeated, and sent out a staff message on the Whatsapp on the other phone and headed up the elevator.

_________________________

The first time Steve was elected President was a blur because at around 3pm, he had started crying so hard with grief and exhaustion that Nat had a doctor slip him some medication. The second time Steve was elected President was a blur because joy threatened to drown him.

The first time the American people chose Steve, he had stood before them a veritable shell of a man who had buried his wife only weeks before and was trying to make sure his son didn’t emotionally disintegrate right in front of him. The second time the American people chose Steve, he stood before them as a man who was grounded in love and powered by hope. 

The first time Sam had stood at a podium and announced Steve as President, Steve was wearing a tie that Peggy had bought him the night he lost his first state senate race. She had told him that he would be powered by the humility of his failures and that would make the difference between a good President and a great one. The second time Sam stood at podium and announced Steve as President, he wore a tie that his son and his boyfriend had picked out for him to wear on that night, to remind him that he would be powered by their love and their trust and their faith as he took up this mantle a second time. 

Steve beat Pierce in both the Electoral College and the popular vote. Exit polls told him what everyone on the campaign trail had said; he was elected by an army of young people who were proud to call him their President and help him to rebuild their planet. Voter turnout among 18-35-year-olds was 13% higher than for his first election and pundits had been replaying his famous Grovel Speech over and over throughout the day, pointing to it as an encapsulation of why he won. 

The parties went well into the night and Steve tried to make as many local supporter gatherings as possible throughout Brooklyn, but around 2am, his extrovert power wore completely out and he let Tony take him back to the Tower. 

“No,” Tony steered Steve away from the bed, laughing. “That last party had glitter! Shower, then bed.”

“Tonnnnyyyyyyy,” Steve whined. “I’m so tired.”

“I am the whiny child in this relationship, buddy, stop making me be the responsible adult. Shower. Scrub off the glitter.”

“There is no scrubbing off glitter, Tony, it’s the herpes of craft supplies,” Steve mumbled and Tony bit back a laugh. His boyfriend had to be next level exhausted to be this biting. 

“Fine, fuck it, I’ll just buy new sheets,” Tony sighed, helping Steve unbutton his shirt and herding him towards the bed. Steve’s grateful grin was payment enough. 

“Hey, Mr. President,” Tony whispered a few seconds later, when Steve was well on his way to octopus level snuggling. 

“Yes, ordinary citizen?”

“I’m really fucking proud of you.”

Steve grinned sleepily, but kept his eyes shut. “I don’t know how to thank you for how wonderful you’ve been.”

“I believe I get to pick out dishes now?”

“Beer cozies.”

“But they’ll clash with all the flowers I shall have to arrange!”

“Where are we getting all these flowers?”

“You’ll figure out something, I’m sure,” Tony whispered, kissing Steve gently. “Sleep, my heart.”

_________________________

It was freezing.

Not hyperbolic. 

Peter was actually freezing. His dad’s second inauguration day was 25°F and they still had hours to go before they could go inside. 

“Hey kid,” Tony sidled up to Peter’s left side and handed him a small black orb. “Don’t turn it on until your dad’s speech, but it should help you stay a bit warm.”

“What is it?”

“A small nanobot heater,” Tony said. “I tried wiring our shoes with heat sensors, but I ended up with burns on my toes and your dad vetoed any further experimentation.”

Peter laughed. They were gathered just inside the portico of the capital building and he, his dad, and Tony were about to walk out and his dad would get sworn in for a second time. He didn’t remember much of the first time, if he was honest. Auntie Yasha had told him a bunch of stories, but he’d been 9 and it was cold that day too and he really missed his mom and it had taken all he had to not just cry. 

This time was better. 

_“Petey,” Steve said over dinner a few nights previous. “Can I ask you a big favor?”_

_“What’s up, Dad?”_

_“Can you hold the Bible for me on Friday?”_

_“The one you swear on?”_

_Steve nodded. “The very one.”_

_Peter blinked a few times. “Are you sure?”_

_“The plan last time was for your mom to do it, and then I didn’t want to ask you because it was all a lot and so Buck did it, but it would mean a lot to me if you’d hold it,” Steve said. “I know you hate attention, so if you want to sit with Nat and Buck, I can ask someone else.”_

_“Don’t you want Tony to do it?”_

_Steve looked over at his boyfriend and back at his son. “I love Tony, you know that, I love him very much, but I will never love another living thing the way I love you. You make me make sense, Peter, and you ground me, and you help me remember how to be a good man. I’m sure I can make Tony do it, but you’re who I want.”_

_Peter bit his bottom lip and nodded. “Then yes, I will.”_

They decided that Steve would hold Tony’s hand, Tony would put his other hand on Peter’s shoulders and Peter would hold the Washington Bible as Chief Justice Garland swore Steve in. That way, as Peter put it succinctly, they’d all be connected. 

The Marine Corps band started playing and everyone marched out into their places. Peter made sure to hold his head high and keep his face placid and professional, but he was also chattering away to his mom in his head – a trick his dad had taught him when his thoughts were overwhelming. _Mom, you would not believe how cold it is today, it wasn’t this cold last time, but that’s about all I remember, I just remember missing you so much and I still do, I miss you so much, but Dad said you promised to send us someone to love us for the bits you couldn’t be here for and I think you sent us Tony because he’s just… Mom he’s the best._

The took their seats – with Peter between Steve and Tony – as the ceremony began. As Steve readied himself for the holiness of the service – one that honored the faith of the President and tried to reflect the faiths of the nation – he flashed back to a very specific conversation with Peggy.

_“It’s so dumb,” Steve loosened his tie and kicked off his shoes._

_Peggy smirked. “I told you they’d say no.”_

_“Why do they care what church you were baptized in? Or that you’re pregnant?! Just let us get married for fucks sake.”_

_“Steven, I absolutely adore that you thought you could reason with the Catholic Church,” Peggy kissed his forehead. “But this is one of their peculiarities. Luckily for us, the Church of England gives no such fucks, so shall I call the Archbishop?”_

_Steve worried his bottom lip. “Can I still be Catholic?”_

_“Again, no such fucks. This baby will have to be baptized Anglican, because your church won’t recognize my faith, but you get to do what you want, love,” Peggy replied._

And from that day forward, anything public that happened in his personal or professional life was done in the Anglican or Episcopal tradition. He couldn’t not be Catholic – Bucky teased him that the guilt was hardwired into his DNA – but he really loved attending services at the National Cathedral and had been happy to let Peter tromp off to Sunday School when they were in Albany. His first inauguration was presided over by Bishop Curry of the Episcopal Church, but this time he wanted to make sure there were women. 

_“Did you know, Mr. President, that only 13% of the pulpits in the United States are occupied by women, but about 75% of the pews are?”_

_Steve looked up at Heather Moore, one of Bucky’s staff helping him plan the Inauguration. “No, Heather, I can honestly say I had no idea. That’s kind of nuts.”_

_She smiled. “You ever want to hear about why, just let me know. I’ll bring the whiskey and my seminary degree.”_

_“You have a – Right, yes, please, I want to hear all about that.”_

And so the invocation was given by Rev. Dr. Amy Butler of Riverside Church in New York, which Steve was absolutely disgusted to hear marked the first time an ordained woman had given an Inaugural invocation. 

There were prayers offered in Spanish, Arabic, and Hebrew – representing the three largest groups of religious Americans who weren’t English-speaking Christians – and two poems by humanist writers to represent the Americans who claimed no faith. 

_“Steven, if you try to put every single American in your ceremony we will be there for seventeen years,” Bucky complained when the first draft of Steve’s ceremony clocked in at an estimated three hours._

_“I don’t want anyone to feel that their tradition isn’t valued!” Steve said. “We mucked it up a bit the first time-“_

_Nat interrupted. “How about we put something in your speech. Like the top twenty-five languages American speak, can you say hello in each or something? And, maybe just address it outright that one of the reasons you love America is that when we tried to get a ceremony that would represent all of us, Bucky nearly quit? Oh, and we can talk about how meaningful the Interfaith Prayer Service is to you, because that’s not spin, I know it really is.”_

_Steve nodded. “That works.”_

And then it was showtime. 

Justice Garland winked at Peter, who scrambled to his feet and took the Bible from the steward. 

“President Rogers, if you will repeat after me,” the Justice said. “I, Steven Grant Rogers,”

“I, Steven Grant Rogers.”

“Do solemnly swear.”

“Do solemnly swear.”

“That I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States,” the Justice said as Peter felt Tony’s hand tighten ever so slightly on his shoulder. 

“That I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States,” Steve grinned, and Peter could see a slight tear in his dad’s eye.

“And will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.”

“And will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States,” Steve said, with strong emphases placed on the words protect and defend. 

“So help me God.”

“So help me God,” Steve said with a nod and a brief close of his eyes. 

Justice Garland smiled, took the Bible from Peter, and stuck out his hand. “Mr. President, welcome back.”

The crowd went wild and Steve grinned big at them as the Marine Corp band played ‘Hail to the Chief’ and Steve hugged everyone and then stepped up to the dais. 

After welcoming everyone in a variety of languages, thanking them for being there, and some other sundry remarks, he got to the part of the speech that made Peter’s chest swell with pride. 

“When I stood up here four years ago, I thought I really loved America. I’ve put my life on the line for the ideals of this nation, served her for many years… I thought I got it. But these last few years, fellow citizens, you taught me that my love was shallow. You see, love is an expanding entity, not a contracting one, and as I got deeper first-hand knowledge of how complex this nation really is, my incredible admiration for you all and my pride at my citizenship only blossomed. 

“On my seventh day in office, when I was still having trouble finding the bathrooms, Peter and I invited some of the staff and their families over for dinner, along with some of Peter’s new school friends, and I got accosted by a wise young woman named MJ. She told me that I had made her mad the day before when I made a speech that talked about making sure that children who didn’t speak English as their first language had an easier time in school, but that I never mentioned any of the other language reasons kids might have a hard time. She had just been diagnosed with dyslexia and was having a hard time adjusting. ‘Mr. President,’ she told me, ‘I’m glad you’re helping the kids that need help with English, I just wish you’d help all of us, even if we look like we don’t need help’.”

“That might have been the first time MJ told me she was angry, by the way, but it was not the last. The worst day of my life was when Peter gave her my email,” Steve smiled to laughter in the crowd. “Her statement that day, in all seriousness, became a guiding principle of our staff. Who needed help, even when they might not look like they do, and what can we do to help? What questions can we ask better, who can we listen to deeper, who needs to be at this table that isn’t?

“I know we’ve frustrated many of you that it’s taken us time to learn those lessons. I know we haven’t served you as well as we could, but I am so grateful you’ve given me a second chance. I promise that I will take this deepened love, this incredible admiration I have for all you – especially those of you who challenge me to serve better – and use it to power these next four years. 

“Fundamentally, America is an idea that was put to paper that humanity didn’t need a deity’s proxy to lead it. It changed the world then, but it wasn’t finished. We knew that people could rule themselves, but the men in charge lost some of the vision to their own prejudices and we’ve spent the last 250 years trying to live up to the promise of their vision. As we grab the baton to run towards the next 250, I know we have work to do.”

Steve went on for a few more minutes, but Peter tuned him out. He’d activated the heat thing and was grateful that when he shivered a little, Tony pulled him closer. 

“Hey kiddo,” Tony whispered. “Don’t move your face, there’s cameras on us, but I want you to remember this moment. I’ve spent a lot of my life in front of cameras and in front of people and I never remember to pause and let things sink in. Since I got back from China, I’m trying to change that, I’m trying to be present more, Pep even has me doing yoga, do not laugh, I promise you CNN has you in full frame right now.

“But this moment, Peter, a lot of people will say this is one of the greatest moments of your Dad’s life and, sure, it’s pretty cool, but he’ll tell them the only thing that made it so great was that you were here. You share him with so many people, but I want you to know that his absolutely favorite job is being your dad. Remember that,” Tony punctuated that with a quick kiss above Peter’s ear. “Now, here comes the big finish.”

“Well, my dear fellow citizens,” Steve boomed, “like I said, we got more work to do. We’ve got more streets to build, and more libraries to fill, and more robots to invent, and more planets to explore. We have more workplaces to ensure equity in and more books to write and more diseases to cure. We have more to do and the unlimited power of the truth of our hallowed words will power us. All humans are created equal and are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights, which among them are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. I am honored to serve you as we pursue life, liberty, and happiness together. Thank you and may God in their wisdom, bless America.”

The band blasted up again and Dr. Robyn Henderson-Espinoza, a self-identified transqueer activist and public theologian, rose to give the benediction. One of Steve’s absolute non-negotiables on this inauguration was to have at least one other queer voice besides his speaking from the dais, and he wanted that voice to be a person of faith. He was delighted to have a _long_ list to choose from. 

_"How much of this is about the personal stuff you're doing in your head and how much is it about fucking with the fundies?" Bucky asked at one point._

_Steve considered. "60/40?"_

_Bucky grinned. "We have done bigger things for worse reasons."_

Then there was walking, and waving, and freezing, and more walking, and so much waving, and then it was time for the various balls. The White House etiquette folks had been in an absolute tizzy over how to deal with Tony. 

_“What do you mean ‘deal with me’?” Tony asked Martha Chan, the White House Social Secretary._

_“The President has asked us to treat you as though you are married, etiquette wise, but you are not, in fact, married,” Martha adjusted nervously in her seat._

_“We’re only not married because I own a company that maybe you’ve heard of and there’s a thing called the Emoluments Clause that we’d rather not violate so forgive me if that makes the fact that I have to pick out china patterns so distressing to you,” Tony snapped._

_“Mr. Stark, this is just unprecedented,” the woman responded. “So, please, can you be patient as we work through this list?”_

_“Fine,” Tony sighed. “Fine, what’s first?”_

_“It has been nominated to call you First Gentleman, which the President says you find objectionable.”_

_“I find it weird.”_

_“Gentleman is the equivalent of Lady, sir, so it would be appropriate if you can bring yourself around to it.”_

_Tony made a face and rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine, First Gentleman is fine.”_

_“Then there is the matter of the inaugural balls.”_

_“Yes, I have Tom Ford working on a few different tuxes for us since someone told me my first one goes to the Smithsonian, what of it?”_

_“Are you comfortable dancing?”_

_“Martha, don’t take this the wrong way, but are the President and I the first gay men you’ve met?”_

_Martha bristled. “No, sir.”_

_“Because you’re acting like we are and my patience is running thin, here, so let’s just clear a few things up,” Tony said. “Whatever we need to do, we’ll do. Ginger Rogers did it all backwards and in heels? I’ll do it forward and with a penis and I think we’ll all survive. You need me to pick dish patterns? Fine. Decorate the Residence? Whatever, Pepper will help. Read books to small children? I’ve been practicing. I am quite looking forward to dancing with my boyfriend at all these fancy parties and his kid has even bribed us into taking ballroom lessons for it, so I think we’ll surprise you. Will that be all, Ms. Chan?”_

All told, the weekend of the Inauguration would see D.C. hosting about 200 balls, events, and parties. The night of the event itself, Steve and Tony would need to attend ten parties and Peter was joining them for five. Three of them included first dances, because the couple would open the party, two of them included speeches that the press would see, and the final five were private. Those were the ones the boys were all looking forward to the most. 

The first first dance had been the thing the couple had fought about the most. Title after title was tossed around until finally Bucky intervened. He got 10 nominations from each of them and then picked names out of a hat and kept it secret from the two men. 

“Are you ready, babe?” Tony straightened Steve’s bowtie as the took the floor at the first ball. 

“I have this sinking feeling he’s going to fuck with us and this is about to _Rainbow Connection_ or something,” Steve replied. 

“I can deprogram his arm with my phone, so I don’t think he’d risk it,” Tony replied as Ben Platt stepped up behind a microphone.

“This was on my list,” they said simultaneously. 

_You put all your faith in my dreams_  
_You gave me the world that I wanted ___  
_What did I do to deserve you?_  
_I follow your steps with my feet_  
_I walk on the road that you started_  
_I need you to know that I heard you, every word_

____

_I've waited way too long to say_  
_Everything you mean to me_

_In case you don't live forever, let me tell you now_  
_I love you more than you'll ever wrap your head around_  
_In case you don't live forever, let me tell you the truth_  
_I'm everything that I am because of you_

_I, I've carried this song in my mind_  
_Listen, it's echoing in me_  
_But I haven't helped you to hear it_

_We, we've only got so much time_  
_I'm pretty sure it would kill me_  
_If you didn't know the pieces of me are pieces of you_  
_I've waited way too long to say_  
_Everything you mean to me_

“I love you so much, Iron Man” Steve whispered in Tony’s ear. 

“I’m pretty fucking crazy about you, Cap,” Tony replied, “pretty fucking crazy.”

They finished that dance, and made the rounds at that party, and then headed to their next first dance (that one was to _Power of Two_ by the Indigo Girls) and their final first dance (which was to Allison Kraus and Union Station’s version of _When You Say Nothing At All_ , which made Tony laugh nearly uncontrollably and Steve grin without any irony). They each made speeches, as did Peter, and posed for more selfies than even Tony could count. 

The best party, though, was the one in the Residence at around 2am, when it was just their family, all in comfortable clothes, with cheap beer and a few pizzas, and swapping stories from the day. 

“And then Jason did two shots of tequila-“ Bucky laughed. 

“- but he thought they were vodka!” Nat finished to howls of laughter. 

“Has anyone seen Stevo?” Tony asked. 

“Didn’t he go to the bathroom?” Pepper said. 

“Yeah, like thirty minutes ago,” Tony muttered, and started to get off the couch when the door opened. When Tony saw what Steve was holding in his hand, he began to cackle. 

“Is that my first assignment?”

Steve handed Tony a bouquet of a dozen roses. “Indeed, my love.”

“Where did you get these?!”

“Well,” Steve smiled as he kissed Tony firmly. “It turns out that I have a rose garden.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Emoluments Clause is Constitutional provision which demands the President cannot personally profit off his office. While it is currently being ignored, we once made President Carter sell his peanut farm and I like to think our boys would be like Caesar's wife and be above reproach. 
> 
> (I would like to thank m_emerson for their correction of my earlier error regarding the location of the clause. Thank you!)
> 
> Also, point of personal privilege - only two women have prayed at inaugurations. President Obama had a non-clergy woman - who was the first woman in the year of our Lord 2012 - and Trump had Paula White, who isn't ordained and has no formal theological training. A man as committed to tradition and systems as Steve is would want to honor the theological heritage Peggy brought him into and also subvert it. 
> 
> Both of the women I reference in this chapter are real and they are badasses and if you are so inclined at all, I'd encourage you to Google them and get to know their wisdom. The two event spaces in Brooklyn are real as well. 
> 
> The song they dance to is _In Case You Don't Live Forever_ by Ben Platt of his debut album and it is on Spotify and please head there immediately. Also, _When You Say Nothing at All_ was my first dance at my wedding, and I'm the Tony in our marriage so I also cackled when my husband picked it. 
> 
> Epilogue is up next - I'll get you through the Presidency so you know what the lads will be up to once Steve's a private citizen again. Oh, and Pepper's going to get a fella.


	15. Chapter 15

**February 2025**

“So what’s the plan for living situations?” Nat asked Steve. “The press is bugging Aaron, so what do you want us to say?”

Steve shuffled some of the papers on his lap. “Mr. Stark will retain his primary residence in New York and will be shouldering any costs to the American taxpayer for his security due to that choice.”

“Well, that’s a tone,” Nat said. “Is President Rogers less than pleased with that decision?”

Steve huffed a bit. “President Rogers was informed that moving Mr. Stark’s laboratory was out of the question and when President Rogers asked why living in the same place as the lab was mandatory, was given a look like someone had actually killed DUM-E and was asked to sleep on the couch.”

Nat howled in laughter for a solid two minutes while Steve scowled at her. 

“Why didn’t you run that by literally any of us first, Mr. President? Fuck, even Peter could have told you he wasn’t going to go for that.”

Steve blushed. “Temporary insanity?”

“Oh, Steven, that was really stupid,” Nat said gently. 

Steve put his head back on the couch and sighed. “I know, I know, I just hate not living with him and it’s not like I can move to Manhattan and so I thought…”

“Yeah, well, you’re thinking different now, right?” Nat confirmed. 

Steve nodded. “He was already, like, seven steps ahead of me and had arranged with Fury for the Service to bill SI directly for any of Tony’s Manhattan based Secret Service needs, and Fury has also let Tony crawl around in the secure wiring around here and in the Capital and evidently we’re all getting upgrades.”

Nat nodded. “I saw that we’re getting all new security cameras for the East and West Wings. Residence is next?”

Steve barked out a laugh. “He updated the Residence about three weeks after we started dating.”

_________________________

**July 2026**

“ALLISON,” Steve bellowed from the Oval. His second term had brought a bit of turnover in the administrative staff and it was getting… tiring. Especially since this one had trouble operating the intercom. 

“Yes, Mr. President?” She appeared at the door. 

“I really need you to get comfortable with the intercom,” Steve sighed. “But can you get me Bucky’s next ten minutes?”

It was the middle of summer and Steve was antsy. Tony had been traveling quite a bit and had taken Peter with him in what had become a summer tradition. 

“Yes, Mr. President,” Allison murmured, looking appropriately chastised. 

When Bucky appeared a few minutes later, he closed the door behind him. “I swear to God that girl is the only millennial on the planet who is afraid of technology.”

“I don’t want to fire her, but…”

Bucky waved his hand. “Nat will move her. One of the benefits of having more admin positions than we know what to do with. What’s up?”

“I’m bored, let’s play hooky.”

Bucky blinked a few times. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“It’s 4, your next important meeting is tomorrow at 2 and I’ve written your speech for the teacher’s union six times and I still hate it. Batting cages?”

“This is why you’re my best friend.”

As Steve called to Kwame to let their usual place know they were on their way, they both ran up to the Residence to change into ‘human clothes’, as Bucky called them, versus the ‘White House clothes’, which had gotten quite an upgrade since Steve started dating a man with Tom Ford on speed dial. 

It wasn’t like the two men did this often, but when they did it, they went _all out_. No phones, no shop talk, just two orphans who found family in each other fourteen lifetimes ago. 

“So, I think I met a girl,” Bucky said as Steve stepped up to the plate. 

“And this one is different than the four hundred or so you’ve met before?”

“Fuck you, Rogers,” Bucky said good naturedly. “But yeah, I think so.”

Steve paused and let a few balls fly by before he hit the switch to stop the machine. He turned to Bucky slowly, with warmth in his eyes. “Do I get to know about her?”

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. “Not yet, pal. This one I kinda want to protect a bit.”

It was a testimony to how much Steve just _knew_ this man that they held eyes for a minute and said nothing. “Well, Buck, whenever you’re ready, I can’t wait to meet her.”

Bucky nodded and Steve turned the machine back on. The pair carried on, swapping stories and hitting balls, until Steve’s StarkPhone rang with Tony’s ringtone. Bucky happened to be sitting next to it and answered. 

“Yo, Stark, he’s hitting balls, what’s up?”

 _“Well, that sounds unnecessarily violent,”_ Tony retorted. _“But can you let him know his kid made it work?”_

“Peter made what work?” Bucky said slowly as Steve dropped the bat and raced for the phone. 

“He did?!” Steve yelped with joy as he ripped the phone from Bucky’s hand. “He did?!”

Tony’s laughter rang through the batting cage. _“The techs up here in Lisburn are furious, they can’t figure out how he fixed it so quick, and then I reminded them that we think he’s actually part spider, so he’s good at making things stick.”_

As Steve asked for details and sunk down onto the bench, Bucky headed into the cage himself, knowing it would be a few minutes before he got Steve back. Which was fine with him, because the version of Steve that was with Tony was Bucky’s favorite yet.

_________________________

**September 2026**

“What about flying over the Grand Canyon? You said you hadn't done that yet.” 

“Oh, that’s a good one, add that,” Steve said, popping a handful of potato chips into his mouth. 

“Do you want me to fly in you in a suit or in Marine One?”

“Well, we get to keep the suit forever, so if this is a POTUS Bucket List, I say Marine One,” Steve replied and Tony nodded, adding _Tour the Grand Canyon in Marine One_ to a growing list that already included _Host a Haunted Ghost Tour of the White House, Take Peter on a State Visit to Ireland_ , and _Make Bucky Wear the Clown Arm for a Whole Day_. 

They were closing in on the midterm elections, which meant that Steve was on the downhill slope of his Presidency. There were quite a few official, policy things that the Rogers Administration wanted to accomplish, but the President’s partner was less concerned with those. 

_“We got my shit passed,” Tony said one morning earlier in the summer. “And I know we’ll get backlash and lose Congress, so it’s not like anything productive is going to happen in the next two years.”_

_“I appreciate your focus on the wellbeing of the American people,” Steve smirked over coffee._

_“I’m just saying, let’s make a Personal POTUS Bucket List. Things you want to do before you leave office. Whatever isn’t in the budget, I’m sure we’ll find a way to pay for, so don’t worry about burdening the people, let’s just have some fun.”_

“I want to host an art exhibit here,” Steve said. “Or maybe a series. All amateur folks, like students or retired people and showcase what they can do, or maybe –“ He was off and running and Tony knew Jarvis was taking notes, so Tony just nodded along. Over the past three(ish) years they’d been together, Tony had been slightly surprised at how little Steve engaged with art. No one really saw his sketches – Bucky and Nat told him it’d been that way for a long time – and he wasn’t even really interested in using his Presidency to showcase art. 

_“I don’t get it,” Tony said to Bucky one night. “It’s, like, the first thing I fell in love with him over, his love of visual art, why wouldn’t you guys make it a huge fucking deal?”_

_Bucky shrugged. “He did, before Peggy died, and then, well, we’ve talked about how between then and when he met you, he didn’t think he deserved to be happy, so I guess that all just took a while. But yeah, I don’t have a lot of memories of him without a pencil and sketchbook about his person, so I’m glad it’s coming back.”_

“And yours?” Tony asked quietly. “Can we show some of yours?”

“Nah,” Steve said quickly. “People get enough of me and I ain’t anything special anyway. Let’s make sure the real artists get seen.”

 _Tucking that bullshit away for another time_ , Tony said to himself. “Okay, anything else before I send this to Pep and Nat so they can add their two cents?”

Steve shook his head and checked his watch. “Peter and MJ should be back soon, so let’s get dinner going.”

The “no-we’re-not-dating-stop-making-it-weird” pair of 16-year-olds were down in the Village seeing some new musical that involved puppets – Tony had stopped listening around that point – but were due back at the Tower for a quick dinner before the DC-trio headed back south. Tony was already pissed he couldn’t go with them, but he had about seventeen things to finish by the end of the week or Pepper was (probably) actually going to kill him. 

_Two years, five months, and seventeen more days until we live in one fucking place_ , Tony told himself as he watched Steve pre-heat the oven for the garlic bread. _Which is two years, five months, and sixteen days too long._

_________________________

**January 2027**

“Hey Pep?” Tony called as he stepped off the elevator on her floor in the Tower. “Do you have the file on the protoype for that dude in Ottawa? I’m nearly finished and I can’t remember the what the hell is Barnes doing in your kitchen?”

Bucky smirked as he sipped coffee. “Good morning to you, too, Stark.”

Tony blinked twice. “You’re missing some clothes.”

“No, he’s perfectly dressed,” Pepper said from behind Tony. “It’s in my office, let me go get it.”

Tony pointed at Pepper’s retreating form and then back at Bucky and then back at Pepper until finally Bucky laughed. “A while, she’s fantastic, no I’m not fucking around with her, and we were going to tell you soon.”

Pepper slammed a folder into Tony’s chest. “VanDyson already paid, so can you finish by Monday?”

Tony didn’t say anything. 

Bucky started to howl in laughter. “We broke Tony!” 

Pepper grabbed Tony’s face and turned it towards her. She lowered her voice to a whisper and said, “James makes me happy. I wasn’t sure he was going to, but he does, so just go back to work, please?”

“Virginia, if you don’t think I’m calling Steve literally the minute I get in the elevator, you are more impaired than I thought,” Tony replied, also in a whisper. “But if he makes you happy, then I’m happy.” He kissed her forehead and started for the elevator. 

“Please remember I have enough money to pay someone to make you disappear and if you make her cry even once, I will find someone to skin you alive,” Tony turned and said with a charming grin. “Mazel!”

When the elevator door closed behind him, Pepper rolled her eyes and headed over to give Bucky a kiss. “He’s all bark,” she assured him. 

“Oh, fuck no, doll, he’s not joking. If you tell him to, he will end me,” Bucky said. “So, please don’t tell him.”

“However will we make sure you stay in my good graces?” She quirked an eyebrow. 

He reached for her, pulling him onto his lap. “I have some ideas.”

_________________________

**May 2028**

“Will you stop,” Peter said through gritted teeth as Pepper futzed with his tie and tried, for the seventh time, to smooth his cowlick. 

“Absolutely not,” Pepper grinned at him. 

“POPS,” Peter bellowed to Tony. “Make Auntie Pep stop grooming me.”

“Absolutely not,” Tony called from the kitchen, echoing Pepper. 

“Fine, Uncle Bucky! Your wife is killing me, here! MJ is going to be coming down the stairs any fucking minute –“

“LANGAUGE PETER ROGERS,” Steve called. 

“-frigging minute and I do not need all of you fussing over me like I am a puppy!” Peter said, exasperated. 

“But you’re such a handsome puppy,” MJ said from behind him and when he turned around, his jaw dropped.

One of the downsides to dating the President’s son, MJ had discovered, was that security was a bitch. One of the upsides was that her senior prom pictures were going to be in the White House Rose Garden. 

“Michelle,” Peter breathed out with a reverence that made her stomach swoop. He was the only one allowed to use her full name and he always deployed it to maximum effect. “You are…”

“You clean up okay too,” she whispered and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. 

“Okay, I need the press photo, like, now,” Bucky said, “so they get off my fucking case, so can someone please snap a ‘casual but completely tastefully posed’ one and send it to Stacy to distribute?”

“On it, babe,” Pepper snapped away, found a few that met Bucky’s approval, and emailed them to Aaron’s assistant. 

“The room has comfy clothes, tons of snacks and adolescent appropriate beverages, four video game consoles, a full Secret Service detail, enough cots for all of your friends, and the security cameras have been disabled,” Steve was explaining to Peter as Bucky gave photo approval. The pair had made a deal that Steve wouldn’t demand that Peter’s after-prom party be held at the White House as long as Fury and Tony would make sure everything was secure. 

“Got it, Dad,” Peter gave Tony a hug and then called to MJ that it was time for them to head. He escorted her into the car, winked at the gathered adults, and climbed in behind her. 

“If prom has you like this,” Tony squeezed his blubbering boyfriend’s hand, “I am petrified for graduation.”

“He’s just so wonderful and I am so proud of him my skin could burst,” Steve whispered and then looked quickly at his friends. “I could not have gotten him here without you all.”

“Nope,” Bucky affirmed, “you couldn’t have. Thank God you didn’t have to.”

_________________________

**January 2029**

“Did you leave him the letter?” 

Steve nodded. “The one for his wife is in your desk-“

“Her desk now,” Tony muttered. Neither Tony or Steve were particularly pleased with their replacements, but the American people could have – and had in the past – done worse. 

“They’ll do their best,” Steve affirmed. “And they seem like good folks, just not our choice.”

“Democracy blows,” Tony grumbled. 

Steve smiled sadly as they made their way to the West Wing portico for the last time. As was customary, the incoming President was meeting them there to escort them to Marine One for a final ride to Andrews Air Force base, where a plane would escort President Rogers and First Gentleman Stark to their new life. 

“I’m just glad they’re doing this on a Saturday,” Steve commented, straightening Tony’s tie. “When Fitzpatrick first talked about a Friday…”

“I know, this is better,” Tony said. 

They each took a breath and stepped into the Oval for the final time. Nearly-President Fitzpatrick had told them to take the morning in both the Residence and the offices, to say goodbye to any of the spaces and that he and his family would meet them at noon. 

Steve went to sit on his desk – which would head to the Smithsonian for storage until his Presidential library was constructed – and motioned to Tony. “Come here, babe.”

Tony snuggled himself next to his love and wound their hands together. “I’m so proud of you, Steven,” Tony whispered. “Even when I’ve disagreed with your policies and when I’ve hated this job for taking you away so often and when it’s been so hard so many times, I’ve been so proud of you. I’m still fucking shocked you love me, but goddamn it do I love it.”

Steve squeezed Tony’s fingers. “I’m glad we’re doing it this way – one chapter directly into the next – because I am so ready for both. I’m ready for this season to be over and for the one of just our family to start.”

“Did you hear from Pep?”

Tony nodded. “She and Bucky got there last night and the kids’ train from Boston was getting in at 10 this morning. Pete wanted to wait for MJ to be done with her rehearsal last night.” 

Steve nodded and looked around the room one last time. There was a rap on the door and Kwame stuck his head into the oval. Steve was grateful the man was still assigned to his permanent detail and would be moving with them to Brooklyn. “Mr. President? Mr. Stark? The Fitzpatricks are here.”

And so that’s how the Rogers administration officially ended, with a solemn walk from the oval to the helicopter, after handshakes and well wishes and a reminder to the new guy that Steve would always pick up the phone for him. Steve and Tony crossed the lawn, climbed into the chopper and sat in silence until they made it to the base. It was traditional to give the President one last ride in Air Force One, so they were being shuttled from Andrews to JFK. As Steve and Tony climbed the stairs and waved to the gathered crowd of citizens and reporters, Steve felt a weight shift. 

_God he was glad to be done._

Their framily and friends were all meeting them at Prospect Park house that Tony had bought for them as their post-Presidency abode. 

_“Anthony, this has too many sight lines,” Fury rejected Tony’s fourth suggestion._

_“Fury, we want a yard and we want to live in the city and there’s enough entitled assholes in this neighborhood that I’ll fit right in. This is the one we want, so just tell me how much it will cost me to make you happy and bill me for it.”_

_Fury narrowed his eyes. “You understand you are going to have live-in agents for as long as President Rogers is alive.”_

_“Yes, which is why I found a house with a fully furnished basement that has a private entrance and still has eight bedrooms. Oh, and the whole block is a co-op, so we get security clearances on who lives there, and as soon as the bat across the street dies, the co-op pres told me I could buy the house for your boys. Happy now?”_

_“Elated,” Fury drolled._

The further away that Steve got from D.C., the more he settled into what the rest of the day would entail and let himself start to get excited. When the car finally pulled up at their house – their house, God how he loved that – Tony gave him a quick kiss. 

“I’ll be in Buck and Pep’s room, and I’ll see you soon.”

Steve opened the door to smells of some of his favorite foods and the sight of the faces of everyone he loved. Hugs and backslaps and winks and calls of “Welcome Home!” followed him as he made his way to the master bedroom, where his son was waiting for him. 

“Suit up, Dad,” Peter grinned and handed him the tux. “Amy says she’s ready to go whenever you guys are.”

Steve grinned. “This was a great idea you and MJ had.”

Peter nodded. “We know.”

Steve laughed and changed quickly, noting the cufflinks that he knew matched Tony’s and the socks that matched Peter’s and the pocket square that was actually made of some of Peggy’s wedding dress. 

A knock sounded at the door. “Steve?”

“Come on in, Amy,” Steve called. 

“Oh, shit, do I still call you Mr. President?” The pastor blushed as she entered. “I forgot to ask Nat.”

“Please don’t,” Steve assured her. “I have been waiting eight years to not have to be called that by people I love any more.”

“Well, then, Steven,” she grinned and emphasized his first name. “Let’s get you married.”

_________________________

**January 2034**

“Sir,” Jarvis called. “You are being reminded to eat.”

“Tell my husband that I ate,” Tony muttered and fired up the blowtorch again. When he turned it off, Jarvis continued. 

“He asked me to remind you that he has known you for 12 years, been married to you for five, and that you are not the only genius in your marriage.”

“Tell him we’ve only known each other for 10 years and two months, he should stick with art not math, and I’ll get a banana.”

“He also asked me to inform you that your goddaughter has arrived.”

“Oh, now she is worth leaving my work for,” Tony went to wash his hands and wandered from his workshop up into the kitchen to find Steve holding Angelica Winifred Barnes, known affectionately to her uncles as Winnie and everyone else as Ange. “There is my favorite girl,” Tony cooed, snatching the 2-year-old away from his husband. 

“Have you eaten?” Steve asked. 

“I’m fine, nag,” Tony responded, and Steve grabbed Winnie back. 

“No snuggles until a sandwich,” Steve retorted and pointed at a plate he’d prepared for Tony. 

“That has significantly less swagger than ‘no sleep till Brooklyn’,” Bucky responded dryly as Tony flipped him off. 

“Where’s Pep?” Tony asked Bucky. “I thought she was back from Peru.”

“She was,” Bucky said, “and if you would actually check your messages, you would have learned that you guys had a crisis in Berlin so she’s there now. I’m actually here to see if you guys can take Ange for a few days?”

“Of course we can,” Steve said, his eyes never leaving the girls’ face. “I don’t have anywhere to be until that summit in Toronto next week and I’ve been looking for an excuse to get Tony out of the shop.” 

Tony glared at Steve but finished his meal as Bucky went out to his car to get a few of Ange’s things – not that she didn’t have an entire room of her own at the house anyway. 

Many hours later, after a video call with MJ and Peter – who were both stubbornly insisting on living in Boston despite both Tony and Steve’s routine explanations that New York was better, the men put their Winnie to bed and Tony coaxed Steve back down to the workshop. 

“What are you working on now? Did you finish the joint for the foot?” Steve asked as he made himself comfortable on his sketching chair and opened his latest book. After years of stubbornly refusing to show his work, he’d begun to auction sketches off for charity and had another round of sketches due in three weeks. It didn’t hurt that his daughter-in-law was the Director of Development for Oxfam America and she had once informed him that by not donating to the cause he was killing orphans. 

_“Geez, babe,” Peter had said, “go for the jugular there.”_

_MJ had just arched an eyebrow. “So, Dad, can I put you down for five sketches? I was thinking maybe some fruit bowls?”_

_“If we’re doing this,” Steve had replied, “we’re doing this. I’m not donating fucking fruit bowls.”_

_“Oh, profanity!” Tony had crowed. “You’ve made him mad now, sweetheart.”_

“I finished that,” Tony explained, smiling over at his husband. “Now I’m trying to help Peter work out why the lever he’s doing for the space station won’t grip the tiles.”

“Is this the thing that once he’s done, you’ll hire him?” Steve clarified.

Tony nodded. “When Storck said they’d give him lead on the astronautics division, he and I knew there was no way we could pass up that learning. I mean, there’s tons of proprietary shit he can’t take with him, but we got to do a few partnerships and this sleeve joint is one of them. But you know how bored he is, so once we finish this contract, SI gets him full time.”

“Is Pep going to make him move here?”

Tony smiled, “I can hear the hopeful tone, but shut it down. Traitor told him he could head the division in Boston so MJ wouldn’t have to give up her job.”

Steve growled good naturedly as Tony called for Jarvis to play one of their routine nighttime playlists. After a few hours, the playlist got quiet and Jarvis said, “Captain, it’s time.”

“Thanks, J,” Steve said, as he put aside his sketchbook and grabbed Tony into a dancing position. 

“What the fuck?”

“Five years,” Steve showed Tony his watch, which read 12:01am. “Five years and I love you more now than I knew I was capable of.”

Tony smiled as the strains of _If You Don’t Live Forever_ , which was ‘their song’ after all, began to play in the workshop and he let his husband lead him in a dance. 

“You are my happily ever after, Anthony Edward,” Steve continued, “and I can’t imagine having a day on this planet without you, so you’ll just have to use your giant brain to work out a way that I never have to, okay?”

Tony kissed Steve gently. “Well, I serve at the pleasure of the President.”

Steve laughed. “Fucking right you do, ordinary citizen.”

“I chose you forever, Captain America,” Tony whispered. 

“I chose you right back, Iron Man,” Steve replied as they danced quietly into the wee hours of their anniversary and onwards into the rest of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/betheflame1) or [Tumblr](http://betheflame.tumblr.com) for more on these yahoos. You can also submit prompts and cajole me into writing faster - it usually works. If you're on Discord, I'm definitely there, too, and probably hanging in the [Stony](https://discord.gg/z5WSqbS) or [Stuckony](https://discord.gg/jtXcc3n) servers.  
>   
> 


	16. Art!

Massive thanks to [AnonymousMink](https://anonymousmink.tumblr.com/) for creating the inauguration scene of my dreams. Make sure to check out their Tumblr for more amazing work.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [moodboard collab: betheflame](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23362237) by [kocuria-visuals (kocuria)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kocuria/pseuds/kocuria-visuals)




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